


The Weight of Living

by LacePendragon



Category: RWBY
Genre: A Copious Amount of Backstory, A Copious Amount of Headcanons, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Agender Ozpin (RWBY), Alcohol Withdrawal, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone is Queer, Everyone is Trans, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Long, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor/Supporting Character Death, Multi, No Major Character Death, No Sexual Content, Other, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rated For Violence and Themes, Seemingly Unrequited Pining, Slow Burn, Sobriety, That's Not An Exaggeration Like Half the Cast is Trans Because It's My Story And I Do What I Want, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Volume 7 (RWBY), Volume 7 Rewrite, grey morality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 199,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacePendragon/pseuds/LacePendragon
Summary: Can you stand the person you've become?Coming to Atlas means many things: the lamp is safe, there's time for rest, and the Atlesian military is at RWBY and Co's backs. For Qrow, it means more: getting sober, dealing with the past, and explaining his secret marriage to James Ironwood.Born of convenience, the marriage allows Qrow access to everything he needs in Atlas, but when word of the arrangement gets out via Jacques Schnee, Qrow and James must deal with the consequences of an entire kingdom thinking they're in love, and with Qrow being second-in-command of Atlas' military.But Qrow isn't the only one with a new fight ahead of him. The kids are now licensed hunters, Oscar is struggling with memories of lives he's never lived, the open council seat and upcoming election has tensions at an all time high between Mantle and Atlas, and James is trying to hold himself together as his naysayers are murdered by criminals he can't find.Salem's army is gathering and her pawns are in position: in Atlas, in Vale, and in Vacuo, and when she finally makes her move, there will be nowhere safe left to hide.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long, Jaune Arc/Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie, Marrow Amin/Clover Ebi, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Penny Polendina/Ruby Rose, Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood, Robyn Hill/Fiona Thyme
Comments: 762
Kudos: 558





	1. Welcome to Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this until after the volume was over but frankly I give up. I need some positivity in my life.
> 
> So! For those of you curious, yes, this has a very similar premise to _In the Public Eye_ , a fic I absolutely adore and need to finish reposting, as of when I'm posting this (Jan, 25, 2020).
> 
> I've been thinking about this fic since The Hug, and I've wanted to do something with it ever since then. _Cordially Invited_ solidified where I was going with it, and I've been taking notes ever since. I love this concept, and I look forward to seeing how far I can take it, in the (three plus) years since I wrote Public Eye.
> 
> The first chapter is very much a redo of the first episode, and I couldn't really get around that. There's a lot of changed details, and a few things I skimmed over because you can just borrow from the episode, but it's still a very important chapter. I'm just sorry there's no way to make it more different. It's definitely not the same, at all, so please don't think it is.
> 
> But after that, we're in free territory and everything is different. From chapter two onward, we are changing the game in huge, broad strokes, and in teeny tiny details. So, enjoy the start, and take care of yourselves.
> 
> It's going to be a hell of a ride.
> 
>  **Note:** The tags mention trans characters, those characters are: Jaune, Oscar, Nora, Blake, Penny (it's complicated), Ozpin (non-binary), and Ren (non-binary, not out yet). Yes this means all of JNOR is trans.
> 
>  **Edit:** Vine (non-binary, genderqueer), Winter (trans woman), Scarlet (non-binary), Fox (trans man), Velvet (trans woman), Neptune (trans man), and Mercury (trans man) have been added to this list. Please respect their identities and pronouns in the comments. Thank you.
> 
> I like trans characters, because I am trans. Please do not bother me about them. <3
> 
>  **Edit, July 14th (Chapter 10 Posting Day):**  
>  When I started _Weight_ , it was supposed to be a V7 rewrite, but the more I got into my plotting, and the more I tried to pick it apart, the more I realized I didn't want to end it in the middle of a war. I wanted to take it to the end of the war. Because of this, _Weight_ is no longer _just_ a V7 rewrite, it is a rewrite that takes us to the end of the series in this story's universe. Do I think it's better than canon? No. It's not even the only version of this story I play with. But it's one that I love a lot, and one I want to see to the end.
> 
> Because of this, more storylines have been added, including Team MEH (Merc, Em, and Hazel), as well as the Vacuo stuff. You do not need to read _After the Fall_ or _Before the Dawn_ to read _Weight_. While some events of ATF are canon, I will be mentioning them and bringing them up. BTD will not be canon at all, because of timelines. I might borrow SSSN's semblances, or I might make my own, we'll see.
> 
> I've also added more ships to the list. Some of these are in the main relationship tags, above, and some are in the author's notes, below. Read up and enjoy. I've also updated the additional tags, as well as the warnings - again, above and below.
> 
> Take care, enjoy the story, feel free to theorize, and thanks for coming along. You're all fantastic.
> 
>  **Background Ships:**  
>  \- Past/Referenced Summer/Taiyang/Raven  
> \- Sun/Neptune  
> \- Coco/Velvet  
> \- Yatsuhashi/Fox  
> \- Emerald/Mercury  
> \- Harriet/Winter  
> \- Vine/Elm  
> \- There may be Watts/Tyrian we shall see.

The flight from Argus to Atlas took the better part of the day, allowing the kids to rest as Maria flew them toward their next destination. Qrow leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, aware of every inch of the ship and every breath taken within its confines. He half expected the door to blow open from his own bullshit, but nothing changed.

Hours passed in that seat, watching the ocean fly by beneath them. Qrow mulled over everything they’d done, and everything there was still left to do. There were details of himself and James that he’d never shared with the kids – he hadn’t lied when he called them friends. That was all they were, in the literal sense. But not in the legal one – and he feared that they’d be upset with him when he told them.

That didn’t include the turmoil in his head that came from the first whispers of alcohol withdrawal. First symptoms could appear within eight hours, and Qrow had experienced that first taste of withdrawal over and over, when he’d run out in the field.

Except now, he wasn’t going to get to stop it. He would have to go through every symptom he’d felt before, and every symptom he hadn’t. The closest he’d ever gotten to going sober was when Yang and Ruby were little, just after Summer had died. He’d cut down so far, and drank so little, that he’d been sick for days, and only picked it up when he realized he needed the drinking to keep himself steady to help Taiyang.

This, all of this, was going to be interesting.

Qrow startled awake from his half-sleeping, half-thinking daze when the city of Atlas came into view. Floating, gleaming, and brilliant, Atlas was one of a kind. Its beauty was something Qrow had listened to many people brag about, including James – though he didn’t brag, he only spoke of his love of the city – but Qrow didn’t see it. Not really. He saw a gilded cage most couldn’t escape from.

He saw a light that cast nothing but shadow on the people below.

He saw the price of progress, in the smoke that rose from Mantle, and in the gaunt and sallow faces of those who lived in the city of shadow.

And, right now, he saw the buzz of dozens upon dozens of ships, flying around the city like a flock of agitated and confused bees.

“What the hell?” asked Qrow, leaning forward in his seat to peer out the windshield. This had to be the entire fleet, deployed and ready for battle. And here they were, sitting ducks in a burnt ship with no codes, no authorization, and no reason to be here.

“What do you think he’s doing?” asked Ruby, a hand on his shoulder. “You’re his friend, right? Can you call him?”

Maybe. But Qrow wasn’t certain. As the others drew toward the front of the ship, Qrow dug his Scroll out his pocket. When he pulled it open, he saw the big crack going through one side. The call button was greyed out. He’d broken his Scroll and hadn’t even noticed.

“Apparently not,” said Qrow. He stuffed his Scroll back in his pocket. Damn it. That was his best shot. And even if he knew James’ contact number off hand, which he didn’t, none of their Scrolls had the authorization to send him straight through. They’d all get redirected and bounced around.

“This isn’t right,” said Weiss. “It looks like we’re going to war. Atlas…” She shook her head. “If there was danger, they wouldn’t be lingering like this. This is a blockade.”

“Is it for us?” asked Jaune, looking to Weiss. Qrow watched her too, as she frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“No,” said Weiss. “You don’t need this many ships for us. I think…” She sighed. “I need to call my sister.”

That was when a feminine voice, belonging to air traffic control, came through the comms.

“Manta 5-1, continue your approach to Atlas and proceed to docking bay Omega-12,” said the air traffic controller. “And welcome home.”

Everyone looked to Weiss for help, including Qrow. He had an idea what was going on, but he needed to get to James to find out. A lot had happened in Vale, and years of history gave Qrow context for quite a bit of it. Salem, the crashed airship, his knights turning on him, and James’ own trauma, it all added up to something that had Qrow pressing his lips together and quietly cursing in his own head.

They’d come to tell James the truth. He feared that this, all of this, and what the kids would extrapolate from it, meant that they’d go back on wanting to tell him. Qrow needed time to talk to James, to understand what was happening, and to figure out a way to explain it to the kids so they didn’t hate James, didn’t want to hide things from him, but also didn’t know more than what James would want them to know.

Protecting privacy and trust on both sides.

“I… should call my sister,” said Weiss. “Even if something is going on, she’ll pick up if I call.” She took a few steps back from the front of the ship and pulled out her Scroll.

“What about until then?” asked Blake. “What do we do? This is…” She glanced at the front of the ship, out to the fleet, and her ears flattened to her head. “This isn’t good.”

“Mantle,” said Qrow, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. “We go to Mantle, set down, lay low until we figure things out. Then, we come up to Atlas, via public transport, and head into the Academy that way. No fuss, no spectacle.”

“You want us to sneak into Atlas,” said Yang. She huffed and folded her arms. “I thought we were done keeping secrets.”

Qrow gave Yang a flat look. “I’m a spy, kid. This is what I do. If the front door has armed guards, you go in through a window. That’s not secrets. That’s safety.”

She sighed. “Yeah…”

He looked to Maria, who nodded.

“Right, down we go. Don’t have to tell me twice to get away from these lunatics,” she said, steering the ship down to Mantle.

Mantle was the lesser of two cities in many ways. It had less infrastructure, less technology, less advancement. It only saw the sun at dawn and at dusk, and so it was shadowed and dingy. The people were seen as lesser, and so they were treated as lesser. Their clothes were drab and dull, their faces sunken in at the eyes and their bodies slumped over from the constant weight of their survival.

Qrow knew these looks, just like he knew these clothes, just like he knew these people. In Anima, this was how the tribe had looked, before they’d turned to raiding full settlements. This was how Qrow’s childhood had looked, before it was painted by blood and the cries of innocent.

Mantle sagged beneath the burden of being Atlas’ supplier, and Qrow feared that these ships were only the beginning of a turning tide. The prickling on the back of his neck had his guard up, and he wondered where the surveillance was in Mantle.

None of the military was protecting it, it seemed.

Somehow, Qrow wasn’t surprised. He’d gone through Mantle for Ozpin, before. Dressed in its clothes and taken on its stance. That was when he’d adopted his slouched over stance. It didn’t draw eyes like standing tall did.

As they swept low over the buildings in a Mantle street, where people looked up and several threw trash, the air traffic control person came back on the line.

“Manta 5-1, you are out of your flight path. Please correct and head toward your docking bay,” said the voice.

Qrow rolled his eyes. “You know how to turn her off?” he asked.

Maria chuckled. “I was hoping you’d ask. Although, it is illegal.”

Yeah, that wouldn’t be a problem. “Leave that to me.”

Maria hummed. “You seem confident. I thought it’d take you longer to bounce back from all this.” She turned her head to look at him. “Something about Atlas is bringing you back into yourself.” She hummed again. “It’s interesting.”

There was no way she had figured anything out, but Qrow didn’t want to risk asking her. Mostly because there was no way to ask without saying it outright, and he didn’t want the kids to hear him, and Blake had ears like, well, a cat. But Maria _did_ visit Atlas, didn’t she? Maybe she’d heard. But almost no one knew.

Why the hell was this so hard to parse out? He needed to focus on something other than this damn secret. It didn’t matter. The kids would understand.

Or would they?

“I like it,” said Ruby, hugging him from behind. Qrow started and leaned back in his seat, lifting his arm to hug Ruby back, as best he could. “It’s good to see you so…” She sighed. “I dunno. But it’s good.” She released him and headed back a few steps to chat with her team.

“We should land,” said Qrow, to Maria. “Can you find us a place?” He was still wracking his brain for James’ contact info. Someone had to have it. Sneaking into Atlas was their best bet, right now, but being able to talk to James, first, would be good. But James wouldn’t answer if Qrow couldn’t get a direct line to him. Although, he could use his rank to get in, but then the kids would have questions…

And there was the matter of his letter. Had it gotten to Atlas before they did? They’d been delayed so much, surely it had made it there.

Gods, it was all a mess.

Had it really been a week ago that they’d been sitting in the house in Mistral, readying to take a train to Argus? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

_“The Kingdom of Atlas will remain strong,”_ came James’ voice over a speaker. Qrow started and stared, eyes going wide, at the massive screen displaying James, speaking, standing at parade rest. It was a recording, and the scrolling text at the bottom of the display told word of curfews, new rules, and shortages. _“and it will remain safe. That is my promise.”_

Qrow swallowed. How far had James fallen, while he’d been away fighting with the kids? How far had he fallen, without Ozpin, or Glynda, or him to pull him up and ask him what he was doing?

How far had he fallen, without someone to argue when he went too far?

_“A reminder. Failure to cooperate with Atlas military personnel is a punishable offense…”_ Winter’s voice, then, on another monitor. Qrow turned his head to stare at that one, then looked back at the one of James. He breathed heavily through his nose. As much as he and Winter fought, she was a good soldier, but good soldiers were all the same – they followed orders without question.

They didn’t wonder if their bosses were losing themselves.

The prickling on the back of Qrow’s neck grew into an active itch that had him rubbing hard at the skin with the pads of his fingers. It didn’t fade. He knew what it was. The same reaction he had right before his semblance fucked something up, but this wasn’t that sort of situation.

This was his semblance telling him something had already gone wrong, that he hadn’t been around to cause it, but that he should feel guilty away.

He wondered if other semblances came with guilt complexes.

“Oh my god,” whispered Weiss. “Winter. Why would she…?” She shook her head. “I need to call her.”

“If you call her, we lose our way into Atlas,” said Qrow.

Weiss turned around and stomped one foot. “Obviously, something is _very_ wrong. Winter would never do this. If I can talk to her, we’ll _gain_ a way into Atlas.”

Qrow lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying that your sister has done anything. I’m saying that if she knows we’re here, she might come try to find us. If she brings other soldiers, we might not get a chance to explain. Your sister is following orders and we’re here illegally.” He took a breath, because this was hard to say. “Do you think she’ll take us at face value? We’re in a stolen airship, we’ve got secrets up to our ears, and you went AWOL a few months ago.”

Weiss slumped, like a marionette with her strings cut.

“I get it,” said Weiss, soft. “It’s a risk. I love Winter, but I want to try. She deserves my trust.”

“We’re landing,” said Maria, before anyone else could speak. She drew the ship down in a corner and they all scrambled to grab their things and get off the ship. Jaune paused to help Maria down the stairs, and then they were off, sneaking around the corner and down the street. Knights and some soldiers ran from another direction, shouting about the ship, and they all snuck off.

“Well, where do we lay low?” asked Blake. “Do we know anyone?”

“I do,” said Maria, “And I put us down near him. Come on, follow me. I’ll take you there.”

Qrow fell back, taking up the rear of the party while he watched the city go by around them. The buildings were tall and impressive, old and sturdy. They were brick and mortar, unlike Atlas, and lights glowed behind many of the windows. Barred gates and fences made up the street level, protecting the fancier buildings from just about anything they could think of. The holograms were the most out of place thing. Their harsh lights threw sharp colours and worse shadows all around them.

Sure, it was dusk, but it felt later. It felt like the sun never rose.

“I still don’t understand what’s going on down here,” said Weiss, hugging herself. Ren reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Last time I was here, Mantle still had teeth. They were fighting. Now…” She looked around and sighed. “It’s awful.”

A truck filled with grimy, morose looking Faunus miners drove by and Blake’s ears flattened out. Nora folded her arms across her chest.

“It’s not just the situation,” sad Blake, hugging herself as well. “This whole place, this city, it all just seems awful.” She shivered. “I hate it here,” she whispered. Nora bumped shoulders with her.

“If you don’t like it!” came the voice of a man that was absolutely shitfaced. Qrow knew the type. He stumbled down the steps and swayed on his feet, brown bag swaying. Fuck, he’d been doing that only a few days ago. “There’s plenty of room out in the tundra.”

Blake’s ears flattened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Qrow stepped up next to Weiss as she reached for her weapon and set a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head. She looked up, brow furrowed, and he nodded.

The man was ranting, loud and angry, face turning red, and Blake curled back from him. He swung at her, Weiss gasped, and Blake shadow-stepped away, leaving behind a frozen sculpture of himself. The guy swung into it and fell, shattering the ice into chunks. He yelped. Weiss snickered.

Blake winced and rubbed the back of her neck.

“You little—” he started.

“You attacked me!” protested Blake.

“We should go,” said Yang. “Before the army shows up.” They all turned and scrambled off as the noise of the Knights reached their ears. Turning the corner, they bolted, and Maria led them down a few dirty streets before they arrived at the little shop that was apparently their destination. Qrow stopped when he saw it, eyes wide. Oh, he knew this shop. He knew it because this was James’ _fucking prosthetist._ He swallowed. He’d only had the honour of meeting Pietro twice, but he adored how kind and gentle Pietro was with James and his prosthetics, especially considering how much of a sore spot they were for James.

Maria came in and waved at the man at the desk. “It’s been a while old friend.”

He squinted at her, pushing up his glasses. “Are you…” He paused. “Oh! Maria Calavera, with the bionic eyes. How lovely to see you again.” His wheelchair, which had legs, came around the corner and he smiled at Maria, reaching out to take her hands and give them a squeeze. “What can I do for you?”

“Well,” said Maria. “My… hrm. These people I’m travelling with are a bunch of troublemakers, and they need a place to hide from the police for a bit.”

“Oh!” said Pietro. He chuckled. “Of course.”

“Um… who are you?” asked Ruby, scratching her head.

Pietro smiled, but it was Maria who spoke. “Pietro is the best prosthetist and doctor in all of Atlas and Mantle. He works on Atlas’ elite, then comes down here to help out everyone else. He’s got the finest heart in all of Atlas.”

Qrow smiled at the way Pietro ducked his head and pulled off his hat to scratch at his bald spot. If the man could blush, he guessed he could have been.

As the kids started talking, discussing, and explaining, Qrow shifted away from the group and moved back to the front of the shop, peering out the windows and into the darkening streets of Mantle. Public transports ran every hour at this time of night, but getting them all onto one would be difficult. They’d have to stake out a couple different locations, split up onto multiple transports, and make a rendezvous point. Anything else would be suspicious.

While he watched the streets, the voices behind him rose and fell, and he glanced, not moving his head, to one side when Ren shifted back to stand next to him. Neither spoke for a few seconds.

Ren said, “There are Grimm coming.”

Qrow nodded. The prickling on the back of his neck said as much, but he couldn’t pin them down enough to call out and head out. He didn’t quite understand how Ren’s semblance worked, but this seemed like one of those things the kid was good at.

“Direction? Numbers?” asked Qrow. He kept his voice low, barely above a breath, and cast a glance toward the kids. Blake had her head tilted, one ear swivelled back toward the two. But she didn’t say anything. Didn’t react.

Qrow figured she wouldn’t until they had a plan. No need to cause panic. They were all fine to fight. They’d had time to rest.

…Well, that wasn’t strictly true. He was still exhausted, and he imagined the kids were, as well. But if he kept up a good front, maybe no one would notice.

“A few dozen,” said Ren, his voice slow and his eyes narrowed. He tilted his head and some hair fell into his face, mostly obscuring one eye. He sighed and brushed it away. “I don’t recognize the type, but they’re moving in fast, from the east.”

“The east wall is broken,” said Blake, voice coming from nearer than Qrow expected. He looked away from Ren to find her standing there, hugging herself, eyes narrowed. The others were starting to turn now, having heard Blake. “I saw it on the news projections. That’s where they’re coming in.”

“But why come so deep?” asked Yang. “Shouldn’t they be attacking people on the outer edges of the city?”

Qrow swallowed and looked over at all these dusty and broken kids. “Not if they’re searching for deep emotions,” he said. “Not if there’s concentrated fear and despair they can smell out.”

Silence.

Then, Nora. “Why do our lives suck _so badly_?” she asked, throwing her hands into the air and staring at the ceiling. “Come on! Can’t we just catch a _break_ already?” She gave a huff. Oscar patted her on the arm in a very ‘there-there’ sort of way.

“We should get out there and help,” said Ruby. “We can stop them before they do any real damage.” She touched her scythe, still in place on her back. It was a gesture she was doing more and more, and one she no doubt had picked up from Qrow. He did it all the time, just to make sure Harbinger was still there.

“You’re unlicensed hunters in a different kingdom,” said Pietro. “You’ll attract a lot of attention fighting here. You should be careful.”

Ruby flashed him a double thumb’s up. “We will!” she said. She turned back toward the rest of them and said, “Come on.” Which was just in time, because outside, the Grimm sirens started to scream.

Everyone rushed outside and readied themselves as the Sabyrs ran from the alleyways and from around corners. They were one of Qrow’s least favourite Grimm. Massive, fanged cats with bone plating turned to ice. Made it hard to attack their backs without giving yourself frostbite.

Fuckers.

It was a fast fight, the kids splitting up and sprinting off to fight in groups. Qrow grabbed Harbinger and stabbed the first Grimm, spun, stabbed the next, extended Harbinger into its scythe, and kept going.

More Sabyrs. One leapt at Qrow. He dropped Harbinger into the street, letting the scythe blade stick into the cobblestones. One-two punched the Sabyr, kicked Harbinger up by the handle, grabbed it again, and spun. Harbinger twisted around his arms, up and over his head as he took out one, two Sabyrs.

He sprinted off, running because transforming was too dangerous, here. There were cameras, civilians. Damn, if it wasn’t faster as a bird, though.

He leapt, swiped a Sabyr out of the air as it went for Oscar. Slashed down onto another and tore it in half with his blade.

Flashing, a roar, and then a bright green light from the sky. Lasers. Qrow stopped, looking up as the rest of the Sabyrs dissolved around them.

Floating in the sky, drifting down toward them, was none other than a girl he knew had been torn to shreds, a year and a half prior.

Apparently, the rules were different when you were made of metal.

He should have known that, really.

“ _Penny_ ,” breathed Ruby, stumbling forward. Qrow caught her as she fell forward next to him. He lifted her back up and kept a steadying hand on her shoulder. “She’s…” The tears gathered and fell almost instantly, slipping down her cheeks and dropping into her cape’s collar. “She’s…”

Penny turned and looked at them all, her eyes widened and lit up – literally, cool trick – when she saw Ruby. Qrow lifted a hand to try and warn her, only for Penny’s expression to falter.

“Ruby?” she asked, cocking her head to one side. “Are you okay?”

All eyes swung toward Ruby and Qrow just as Ruby fell to her knees, sobbing. Her entire frame wracked with the jerking motions of her sobs, her body curling forward and into itself. She scrubbed at her eyes and planted her hands half over her face, sobbing so hard she was coughing.

Qrow fell to his knees. Saw Yang rush over from the other side. Penny flew forward and dropped in front of Ruby.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Ruby choked out, entire body trembling and shaking. “I just. You were _dead_ and now you’re here—” A sob ripped through her. Yang wrapped Ruby in her arms and held her close, Qrow pressed hand to her head and soothed his fingers through her hair. “You’re not gone.”

“Nope, I’m a-okay,” said Penny, smiling. She reached out, holding out one hand, palm up. Ruby reached out with damp, trembling fingers and tangled them with Penny’s. “Will you be okay?”

Ruby nodded and sniffled. “It’s been a long day,” she mumbled. Her body shuddered, but her sobs were already fading, even if the tears still slipped freely down her face. Qrow stroked her hair. He should have known this would happen. She’d been through so much in the last week, let alone the last year and a half, and no one could bear all that alone.

“When the Amity Coliseum returned to Atlas,” came Pietro’s voice, “I gathered Penny and rebuilt her to be stronger. So that what happened to her in Vale could never happen again.” Qrow turned his head and saw Pietro stroking his beard. “Although, she is missing one of her swords. I scoured that arena, but I never found it.”

Ruby coughed, her ears turning red. “I have it,” she said. “It’s in my bag.”

There was a very long, stunned pause.

“You carried a sword across all of Anima?” asked Yang. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“We knew,” said Jaune. Nora and Ren nodded. “Ruby showed us, when we got my weapon and armour upgraded.” He looked to his teammates and sighed. “She asked us if she should build Penny’s sword into Crescent Rose.”

“We said no,” said Ren. “That it wasn’t the time.” He looked at Penny and smiled. “I suppose now we know why.”

Penny smiled back. “You can keep it, if you want,” said Penny. “I’ve learned to fight without it.” She reached out and brushed Ruby’s hair back from her face, her gaze so soft that Qrow looked away, because whatever this was, it wasn’t for him. “I’ve missed you.” And her voice was just as soft.

“I missed you too,” whispered Ruby.

Qrow cleared his throat and got to his feet, nodding his head so Yang followed. The tips of Yang’s ears were bright red, so she knew that tone of voice, too. Not that he was surprised. He’d seen the way she looked at Blake.

“We should go,” said Pietro. “Being out in the streets after an attack isn’t… the best idea. I’ll answer all your questions back in my office.”

Qrow helped Ruby to her feet, smiling when she smiled up at him, and they all turned and headed toward the office.

They made it about ten steps before bolas whipped out from the shadows and wrapped around their middles. Half of them hit the ground in the first wave, then the rest. Qrow spun, pulling up Harbinger, but he couldn’t find them. Bolas hit him in the left arm, spun, and sent him to the ground.

And from the shadows came a group of people that could only be one thing, the Ace Operatives that James had so often enthused about in his conversations and messages to Qrow.

Damn it.

“Hey!” came Oscar’s voice, high and shaking. “What’s going on?”

“We didn’t _do_ anything,” said Yang.

“We were just trying to help,” said Ruby. She whimpered when the guy who was obviously the leader picked up the relic. Qrow jerked in his bonds and ground his teeth.

He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to explain this to the kids when they were all bound and ready for transport. But if they went to jail, this would go even poorer.

With a curse, he pushed himself upright, rolling to get his knees properly under him, and glared up at the leader. One by one, they were switching the kids into cuffs, and leader-boy seemed to be leaving Qrow for last.

“You need to scan me,” said Qrow, drawing every bit of command he possessed into his voice. He saw the way two of the Ace-Ops, the tall woman and the faunus, paused when Qrow spoke. He stared up at leader-boy, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“And why should I do that?” he asked, circling Qrow and crouching to switch him from bolas to cuffs. Qrow rolled his shoulders.

“Because if you don’t, you might lose your job,” said Qrow, over his shoulder.

Leader-boy’s hands stilled. He hummed. “Is that so?” He scoffed. “You expect me to believe that?”

Qrow shrugged. “You don’t _have_ to believe me to understand a risk. If you don’t want to take two seconds, well…” His mouth crept upward on one side, eyes twinkling and eyebrows raised. “I’m sure James will understand.”

Leader-boy narrowed his eyes, no doubt at the use of James’ name, which Qrow had done on purpose, and pulled out his Scroll. He snapped a picture of Qrow, flash on, and smirked when Qrow blinked and grimaced against the spots in his eyes.

“Let’s see,” said Leader-boy, tapping away. On the reverse of his screen, Qrow could see his file pop up. His Atlas file had a picture of him with one eyebrow raised and a knick out of one ear. It’d been a wild week, back when he’d gotten it taken. “Qrow Branwen, registered huntsman from Vale, wielder of an S-Class transforming weapon…”

Qrow grinned. He loved that part.

“And…” Leader-boy abruptly went pale. “Shit.”

“Mm-hm,” said Qrow, nodding.

Leader-boy looked at Qrow, then at his Scroll, then at Qrow again, his eyes growing progressively wider with each movement. The faunus guy came up behind leader-boy and peered over his shoulder.

“Hey, Clover, why are you—” Faunus guy stopped short and let out a low curse. “We didn’t.”

“We did,” said leader-boy, apparently Clover. He spun and gestured to the Knights and his teammates. “Get the cuffs off all of them, now, and call a civilian transport. We’re escorting them to the Academy, immediately.”

“What’s going on?” asked the tall woman. “We have our orders.”

“I’m giving new ones,” said Clover. He reached around Qrow and undid the cuffs. Qrow got to his feet, rubbing his wrists.

“What happened?” asked the shorter woman. “What did we do?”

Clover looked at Qrow, then to his team. “We just arrested the General’s husband.”

As the kids started shouting in confusion and shock all around him, Qrow sighed and let his shoulders fall.

Yeah, this was gonna be a _long_ night.


	2. A Marriage of Convenience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still here, still loving James, still understanding that morals are a slippery slope and character development can go both ways and redemption arcs are a huge part of fallen hero arcs. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> In more connected news: this is when we start diverging. Hard. Enjoy!

The trip in the civilian transport was silent, but it hadn’t started out that way. At first, the kids had shouted and voiced their confusion, and it was only when it became clear that Qrow wasn’t answering anything that they stopped, thus leaving the transport in awkward silence.

The Ace-Ops went on in their own transport, and Penny flew off ahead after giving Ruby one last hug, with the idea that they’d all meet up again when they arrived at the Academy.

“You know,” said Nora, her voice quiet. She fiddled with a thread in her skirt and Qrow had the urge to fix it. He needed to mend Ruby’s cape, as well, but they hadn’t had time to do so, and he hadn’t found the right fabric. Maybe Atlas would have some. “You could have told us.”

Qrow opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, sighed. The kids had the wrong idea. They thought this was about love, not about convenience. He and James were friends, sure, but they weren’t in love. They were married for a few reasons, and none of them were to do with love.

At least on James’ side.

That much, Qrow was clear on.

“She’s right,” said Yang. She drew up one leg onto the ledge of the seat and wrapped her arms loosely around it. She stared at the floor, eyes downcast and head still up. “You could have trusted us.”

Qrow grimaced. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” asked Yang. Her gaze dug into Qrow’s, leaving him speechless from the anger and betrayal that lingered beneath. “I thought we said no more secrets. You were supposed to be better than that!” Her voice lifted, echoing around the transport. Her eyes flickered, red burning beneath the purple, like flames licking at the inside of her mind.

Qrow took a breath. He didn’t know how much was being recorded. He didn’t know if the soldiers flying the ship were listening in.

“I can’t explain all of it, here,” said Qrow, gently. “There’s a lot that needs to be talked about securely.” He put weight to his voice he’d only used when talking, before, about Salem, or Ozpin, or anything else in that vein. “But let me ask you one thing, Yang.” He looked at Yang and she looked back, purple stronger than before. “If I’d told you, in Anima, in Argus, on the flight here, would you have believed me? Or would you have laughed?”

Yang broke his gaze and looked away.

Qrow sighed. His chest hurt, the weight of her silent confirmation pushing down on his ribs until it pressed the air from his lungs. “Yeah,” he said, “I didn’t think so.”

“I’m guessing that’s why you didn’t use that information against Cordovin, either,” said Blake. “Without the CCTs, there’s no way to confirm you’re telling the truth.” She tilted her head, and her ears tilted with her. She rested a hand on Yang’s raised knee and Yang looked at her, eyes soft. “She would have laughed.” Her ears flattened against her head. “I see why you didn’t say anything.”

Qrow grimaced. “We shouldn’t talk about this,” he said, “not until we get to the school. I’d rather explain the _why_ then.” More emphasis. He hoped the kids were picking it up. He didn’t want them to build false expectations. He didn’t want a connection that wasn’t real.

“I didn’t even know you liked guys,” said Nora, flopping back in her seat.

Qrow snorted, unable to help himself. “Kid,” he said, leaning back against wall of the transport, arms folded loose against his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, “I _only_ like men.”

Nora’s eyebrows went up. She grinned. “Does that mean you’re our cool gay uncle?” she asked, scrunching up her hands beneath her chin. “I mean, like, you’ve basically been treating us _all_ as your kids since we left Mistral.” She bounced in her seat, then paused. “Except Oscar. I don’t think you even _spoke_ to Oscar in Argus. Or since.”

Ren nudged her in the side as Qrow shrunk down, letting his hands drop to his lap as he curled his shoulders forward.

“Nora,” muttered Ren.

“What?” asked Nora, throwing her hands wide. “It’s true! He barely even _looks_ at Oscar anymore.” She eyed Qrow shrewdly from across the transport. “What happened out there?”

“A lot,” said Qrow. He looked at Oscar, but found Oscar bowing his head and staring at the floor. Qrow sighed and looked to one side, finding Weiss next to him. She’d taken that spot when they’d gotten into the transport and he didn’t know why. Ruby was on his other side.

“Someday, you’re gonna have to tell us how you all reacted,” said Jaune. “It seems only fair. You saw how we did.”

“Jaune,” said Weiss. “Trust me when I say, you don’t _want_ to know how Qrow reacted. Focus on how he is now, how we _all_ are now, and on what we’re trying to accomplish.” She folded her hands in her lap and glared out the window of the transport. “Atlas isn’t Mistral, or Argus, or Vale. You need to remember that.”

Qrow raised an eyebrow at Weiss. “You defending me now that you know I’m part Atlesian?”

Weiss scoffed. “Being married to an Atlesian doesn’t _make_ you one. I don’t know how much time you’ve spent in Atlas since your marriage, Qrow, but not one person in Atlas’ upper crust is going to let you forget that.” Her scowl deepened. “Differences are not celebrated in Atlas; they are beaten down and snuffed out. Don’t forget that.”

Ruby leaned around Weiss. “You’re… not happy to be home, at all?”

Weiss closed her eyes. “My _home_ is with all of you, no matter where we are. This?” She scoffed. “It’s nothing more than a gilded cage, meant to distract those trapped like pretty birds within.” She looked at Qrow. “No offense.”

He raised both eyebrows. “You know I’m not _actually_ a bird, right? I was human, first.”

She shrugged. He had a feeling she was faraway, trapped in the very cage she spoke of. He only hoped her friends had the key.

“Woah,” breathed Jaune, getting to his feet. The others followed suit as Atlas Academy came into view. Everyone, except Weiss, ended up standing and staring out the window, even Yang, who looked lighter now, and Oscar, who kept himself far away from Qrow.

Qrow needed to talk to him, before this got worse.

Weiss shrunk in on herself, head bowing. Hesitantly, Qrow bumped his shoulder against hers, not wanting to risk anything that could come off as more physical than appropriate. Weiss responded by sagging into him completely, her head on his shoulder, her eyes squeezing shut. Qrow slipped his arm around her shoulders.

“Hey,” said Qrow, into her hair. “I hate it here too.”

She nodded weakly. “Atlas is a place where everything is held to a higher standard. Traditions, norms, everything,” she whispered. “You and the General is _stunning_ , frankly, because same-sex marriage was legalized in _my_ lifetime in Atlas.” She tilted her head to look up at him, and Qrow was struck by how _young_ Weiss looked. How young, and vulnerable, and tired. “I never wanted to come back.”

He rubbed her shoulder with his hand and rested his cheek in her hair. “I know,” he said, voice gentle. “I know. We’re with you. We won’t leave you.”

“Thank you,” she said.

* * *

The ship landed a few minutes later, lowering onto a landing bay near the entrance to Atlas Academy. The two soldiers got out and opened the door to the transport, nodding them toward the entrance of the school.

“I trust you know your way to the General’s offices?” asked one of the soldiers, his voice low and smooth. The other elbowed him in the gut and the first grunted, twisting his head and scowling. Qrow imagined he was glaring, but the helmets that the soldiers wore destroyed all hope of understanding facial expressions.

Maybe that was the point. Though, those helmets were a hold over from before James took over. Qrow always meant to ask him if they could be changed.

“I do,” said Qrow. He shoved his thumbs in his pockets and nodded toward the school, casting his gaze back to the kids. Ruby nodded, staring up at the school. “You kids, ready?”

“I mean, we need to see him,” said Ruby, giving a shrug. “Oooh, I hope this goes well.” The last words were low, mostly a whisper. Qrow shook his head and turned his attention back toward the school. He started forward, settling into his usual gait once he heard the kids following after.

Up the stairs and into the school, passed other soldiers who paused to watch the conglomerate of kids that made up his train, but no one else was watching them properly. He could sense the kids looking around, hear their murmurs of confusion.

Yeah. Probably not what they were expecting, and not what he’d wanted. He’d been hoping to break this to them easily, once they snuck up to Atlas. He hadn’t wanted this. But this was the price of full access.

Damn it.

They kept going, into the school and then into the central elevator, which lead up the massive tower and to James’ office.

In the elevator, someone finally spoke.

“What are we doing to tell him?” asked Ren.

Ruby frowned and slumped. Qrow watched her, from the right.

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “Everything looks so strange, and nothing is what I expected, but…” She looked up at Qrow. “Do you trust him?”

“I think I’m biased,” said Qrow, giving a shrug.

She sighed. “Maybe,” she said, “but you don’t trust just anyone, Uncle Qrow.” She frowned.

“It’s backfired though,” said Qrow. He wanted to stop talking. He wanted them to trust James. He wanted to stop bearing all this, as the only damn adult in the room, _alone._ “Twice.”

“I’m not sure that counts,” said Ruby.

“We’ll follow your lead, Ruby,” said Blake, looking from Qrow, to Ruby, and back again. She looked at Qrow, and he saw the slight narrowing of her eyes, the way her ears swivelled but didn’t fold. He didn’t blame her worry about him. He was obviously aligned to James, who she was worried about, and he was an adult man who had done some pretty questionable shit around her.

Hell, Blake was the one person on team RWBY he suspected would never like him. They were too similar in a lot of ways and too different in others. She reminded him a lot of Raven, in both good and bad ways. It worried him. A lot.

“And I’ll listen to you,” said Ruby. “If you think we can trust him, show me. If not…” She trailed off and shook her head. “We’ll see, I guess.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder and gave her a little smile.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” he said. She smiled back, though it seemed weak and shaky. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t blame any of them for anything. Not their fear, not their worry, not their hesitation. All of them had been through so much.

He only hoped that this wasn’t too much.

The door dinged open and Qrow stepped out of the elevator. He suspected that James would be in a meeting, or in his office, or somewhere else that meant Qrow would be waiting for a while. Instead, James was standing in the solarium that made up the central area between the rooms at the top of the tower, Winter on one side of him, Penny on the other.

Qrow had had a lot of ideas, for when he saw James the next time. When he’d seen Mantle, he’d adjusted those ideas, and again, once they’d been arrested and released. He’d wanted to say a lot of things, wanted to tell James all the dangers, wanted to ask him questions to see if he was okay, to see if he was compromised, to see if his mental health was as bad as Qrow suspected it was.

It all left him, seeing James. He took one look at the man, a year and a half after having last seen him, and Qrow forgot what he was supposed to say.

He stumbled, one, two, three steps, and chucked himself into James’ arms. James caught him, arms raising as Qrow walked, and yanked Qrow in closely. Qrow rested his head on James’ shoulder, James rested his face in Qrow’s hair. Qrow’s arms around his shoulders and James’ around his waist, the two of them clinging.

“I missed you,” whispered Qrow, into James’ shoulder. James’ beard – and that was new, a sign of his despair – brushed Qrow’s ear.

“I missed you, too,” whispered James.

“Wow,” said Nora. “You two really _are_ married.”

James pulled back from the hug and looked at Qrow with a curious furrow to his brow. Qrow felt himself flush hot, his ears burning.

“In my defense, it never came up,” mumbled Qrow. “And once it did, we weren’t in a secure location to explain.”

James hummed and released Qrow after another moment, stepping away from him. It took more of Qrow’s self control than it should have not to crawl back into James’ arms and stay there for a few more hours.

“Yes, well,” said James. “Qrow and I are married, but not for the reason you might suspect.”

Nora folded her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked. “Then why _are_ you married?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Qrow saw the Ace-Ops moving from another area in the tower toward them. He looked to James, brow furrowed, and James gave a nod.

“Do they know?” asked James.

“Everything,” said Qrow. He gestured between them. “Except this. You?” He tilted his head toward the Ace-Ops.

“Winter, Penny, and the Ace Operatives know… everything. Salem, the relics, the maidens, and the nature of our agreement,” said James. Qrow’s eyebrows went up. The kids shouted in surprise. “After the fall of Beacon, I needed my own inner circle. They were it.”

Ruby sputtered. “Seriously?” She waved her arms around above her head. “You told that many people?”

“I mean,” said the short woman with strange hair, striding at the front of the Ace-Ops as they walked into the room. “There’s seven of us, if you count those two,” she jerked a thumb toward Penny and Winter, Winter scowled, “and there’s…” She made a show of counting all of them. “What? Eight of you? Seems about equal.” She shrugged. “We needed to know, now we know.” She cast a look at Qrow. “I still don’t get you.”

Nora huffed. “You don’t _have_ to understand him! It’s love!”

Qrow winced at Nora’s declaration at the same time the woman burst out laughing, Winter sighed, and James pinched the bridge of his nose.

Qrow felt himself turn red as all eyes went to him.

“You told them we were in _love_?” asked James, sounding incredulous.

“I didn’t tell them anything!” protested Qrow. “I got _arrested_ by your fucking golden boy over here,” he gestured toward Clover, “and told him to look me up before he arrested me because I didn’t feel like going to _jail_ today.” He folded his arms over his chest and glared. “I’m not responsible for this shit. You’re the one who had us _arrested._ ”

“I didn’t know it was you,” said James, his voice lifting. “I was told there were rogue hunters in Mantle and I ordered their arrest. That was the extent of my knowledge.”

Qrow huffed. “So you arrest everyone who tries to help?” He clenched his hands against his arms. “That seems like a good way to run a city.” He couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice. He’d been arrested for fighting Grimm. What kind of bullshit was that?

“Illegal weaponry must be taken seriously,” said James. “And scythes are an illegal weapon in Atlas without proper licenses.” He gave Qrow a hard look. “One _you_ have, but your niece does not.” He looked over at all the kids. “I apologize for all of this. It’s wonderful to see you all in Atlas, and well, at that.”

Nora raised her hand. Qrow fought the urge to laugh.

“Yeah, Nora?” he asked.

“So you’re _not_ in love?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.

“No, Nora,” said James, “we are not.”

_Speak for yourself_ , thought Qrow, folding his arms a little tighter. But of course, James didn’t know that. No one did.

“But you _are_ married,” said Nora. She scratched the top of her head. “What’s up with that?”

James sighed. “Qrow needed access to systems and places in the kingdom that only military rank could give him. Beyond that, we needed a way for Qrow to move in and out of my inner circle without question.”

“There were also things I needed access to that only the General and his right hands had access to,” said Qrow. Like the inner workings of Mantle, or the underbelly of Atlas.

“Precisely,” said James. “Giving Qrow military rank would have sparked controversy and question, and would have forced his hand to stay in Atlas.” James clasped his hands behind his back. “However, Atlas’ traditions dictate that if the spouse of the General is an active hunter and is qualified for role – and _only_ if they are qualified for the role – the spouse gains the rank of Lieutenant General, making them second-in-command of Atlas’ army.”

Ruby stared at Qrow with wide eyes. “You mean the _only person_ in Atlas higher ranked than you is General Ironwood?” she asked in a mock whisper.

Qrow bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. “Yeah.”

“ _Wow_.” Her eyes were definitely sparkling, or at least, as close as they could get. “You’re like _super important_.”

Qrow narrowed his eyes. “I was important _before_ ,” he started. But he was stopped by one of the Ace-Ops, Clover, waving a hand and stepping around and into Qrow’s field of vision.

“I really want to apologize for the confusion,” said Clover. “I didn’t recognize you at first. You seem less…” He looked Qrow up and down with a raised eyebrow and a look that wasn’t _quite_ dismissive, but wasn’t great, either. “Haggard, in the videos I’ve seen.”

Qrow raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen videos of me?” he asked. He cast a look up at James, whose ears had turned pink.

“Oh, plenty,” said Clover. “In fact—”

“Why don’t we talk about why you’re here?” said James. “In my office.” He gave Clover a firm look at Clover stepped back, nodding.

“Yeah,” said Yang. “I think we need to talk about a _lot_ of things.” She gave Qrow a hard look and Qrow sighed, his shoulders slumping. Yeah, he deserved that.

Together, the group moved from the solarium, with Clover waving as they went, up the stairs and into James’ office. Qrow heard the awe in the kids’ voices as they stepped into the office, and he couldn’t blame them, James’ office was pretty amazing.

The constellations on the floor and ceiling represented star maps for the north and south hemisphere – Menagerie and Mantle, if Qrow remembered correctly. Though he didn’t know how often James had been to Menagerie. There was a line of bookcases against one wall, the shelves mostly overflowing with books. A few things other than books rested in them, like a stand holding the very first version of a Scroll and a globe turned to show Sanus.

There were a handful of chairs in the room, one of them spun around so its back was facing where the rest of the fronts were. Qrow suspected the Ace-Ops had been in here, recently.

He saw Blake crouch on the floor and touch a star on the floor. She smiled. Yang looked at her, curious.

“This is the constellation my mom is named after,” said Blake. “Kali. In old faunus folklore, we believed there to be a second series of gods, and Kali was a shapeshifting panther faunus, and the goddess of death.”

Yang’s eyebrows went up. “Your mom is named after the goddess of death?” she asked.

“That’s so cool,” whispered Ruby.

Blake stood up and smiled. “You should see her semblance,” she said. Then, noticing everyone was watching her, she blushed. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Distracted.”

“It’s quite all right,” said James, his voice gentle. “It’s actually nice, to hear something not related to this war.”

Qrow tilted his head. He hadn’t known that about the faunus, but that wasn’t a surprise. Faunus kept their lore to themselves, passing it down in a tongue that no one else in Remnant spoke. As far as he could tell, humans couldn’t even learn it. Like night vision, faunus all shared a shift in their vocal cords and tongues that allowed them to pronounce phenomes that most couldn’t.

Handy, especially for creating a language to escape slavery, as they had done.

“So you… told your inner circle all about everything?” asked Ruby, her voice wobbling slightly. Qrow watched the way her gaze followed Penny as Penny moved through the room. There was a distant look in Ruby’s eyes that reminded Qrow of Tai, and the way he looked whenever he heard ravens in the trees.

Hope, fear, longing, or something like it, but knowledge that none of it mattered. It hurt, to see her adopt that look, especially when Penny seemed happy to see Ruby.

But getting someone back from the dead… Qrow’s gaze went to James and he let out a quiet sigh, shoulders slumped, yeah. Getting someone back from the dead, or near dead, was pretty damn hard.

“Yes,” said James. He took his seat at his desk and Qrow caught the slight wince. Probably his hip; it took the worst of the uneven weight. Qrow wondered when the last time James had seen Pietro was.

“But why tell them about me?” asked Qrow. He folded his arms. The knowledge that all these people were eyeing him, questioning whether he was worth the trust James had put into him, prickled at him, tugging at the careful balance of emotion that Qrow struggled to hold in place.

“For this exact reason,” said James. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Qrow was struck by how _exhausted_ James looked. The bags under his eyes were basically bruises, not to mention his eyes were somewhat bloodshot as well. The downward pull of his shoulders, the slump of his posture, the unkempt nature of his hair. It all spoke to what this was doing to James.

“Yeah, cuz that worked out,” said Nora. “We got arrested!”

“Why are scythes illegal?” asked Blake. Qrow saw her reach for her weapon. It wasn’t there, because their weapons have been confiscated and not given back, but she did it all the same.

Ballistic chain scythe. A clever way to hide a weapon not allowed in two of the four kingdoms without a special license. No one looked at Blake and thought ‘scythe’, especially not next to Ruby.

“We’ve had some issues with them,” said James.

Qrow snorted. _That_ was putting it lightly. “Yeah, there was a group of raiders using miniaturized scythes, after the Great War.” James gave him a look and Qrow shrugged, continuing. “Like what Maria used in her day. Took out a lot of civilians with them. Then, a bunch of punk kids, some forty years later, decided they wanted to remake those weapons and fight Grimm with them.” He looked at Ruby, who watched him with a furrowed brow. “They died, training. Didn’t even make it onto the battlefield.”

Ruby sucked in an audible breath, as did a few others.

“That’s awful,” whispered Ruby. “They…” She shook her head. “Is that why you trained me with a blunt scythe?” she asked.

Qrow nodded. “Yup. It’s also why we trained your spatial awareness. Weiss, Nora, and Yang, if they lose awareness of their weapon, they get injured. If you lose awareness…”

“I could cut myself in half,” said Ruby, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve thought about that.” Her eyes were wide. “A lot, actually. Mostly lately.”

Yang put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder and squeezed. Ruby smiled at her.

“What’s going on with Mantle?” asked Nora, folding her arms across her chest. “The people are suffering, and scared, and you’re a giant face on a wall telling them to obey!” She threw her arms wide.

Weiss stepped up next to Nora and laid a hand on her arm, one of her thumbs brushing against Nora’s skin. Nora relaxed a bit, exhaling.

“There’s also the blockade,” said Weiss. “None of it makes sense to us.”

“What’s going on?” asked Jaune.

James looked at them all, sweeping his gaze across all of the kids, before finding and lingering on Qrow. James shrugged with his expression, a lift of his eyebrows and a slight grimace of his lips, before standing.

“After Beacon fell, I returned to Atlas,” said James. “There were… a lot of unknown variables. Salem was stronger than we suspected.” He opened a drawer and pulled out the lamp, lifting it. “With Ozpin gone, I needed a new plan, one to protect my people, my kingdom, and Remnant as a whole.”

He set the lamp down on the desk and it floated slightly. Ruby stared at it. She let out a quiet noise.

“I understand that this might seem…” He sighed. “I know this looks bad. I probably don’t seem trustworthy right now, and I understand that.” He gestured to the windows. “The embargo, calling back my military, the strict laws in Atlas and Mantle. It all looks bad. I know that.”

“Then why do it?” asked Blake. “Why keep going?” She took a step forward and spread her hands. “It looks awful down there.” She hugged herself. Yang stepped forward and rested a hand on Blake’s shoulder. Blake smiled at her.

James lifted his gaze above the kids and met Qrow’s across the office. Qrow circled the kids and climbed the two steps to James’ desk, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” said Qrow. He kept his voice low, knowing that if any of the kids could hear it, it’d be Blake. “James, they get it. Trust me.”

James looked at the kids, then at Qrow, raising an eyebrow. “Do they?” His voice was quiet, broken.

“They do,” said Qrow, nodding. “More than ever. I promise.” He squeezed James’ right shoulder, feeling the give of the fabric and the firmness of James’ metal shoulder beneath. “Please, James. They need to know that you’re…” He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

“Trustworthy,” finished James, his voice loud enough that the others heard. He sighed and stepped forward, laying a hand on the desk. “Fear, Ms. Belladonna. I do it because of fear.”

Blake started, eyes going wide. “You’re… afraid?”

“Aren’t you?” he asked, his voice gentle and tired. He moved around the desk, hands clasped behind his back, and a table rose up from the floor. The kids stepped away from it. Qrow followed James brow furrowed.

James spoke. “When Beacon fell, Salem made certain we knew it was her. She taunted us, she mocked us. When she came for Beacon we were not prepared.” His voice was low and his gaze seemed faraway as the hologram of Atlas appeared on the table. Qrow stepped up next to James and squeezed his shoulder, again, trying to ground him. “Ozpin assured us that we were prepared, but we were nothing of the sort.”

“General Ironwood, do you have a plan?” asked Ruby. “Because it looks like you’re trying to do something.”

James nodded. The hologram shifted to Amity Arena. “We brought Amity Arena back to Atlas, after the fall. It took months to get here, but once it did, I began planning.” He zoomed in on it and the arena divided into two. One looked normal, the other was heavily altered. “My hope is to transform the arena into a new CCT, a satellite, and to raise it into the sky, too high for the Grimm to follow. From there, we can reconnect the world and ensure that our communication is never taken from us again.”

Qrow nodded. It was a good plan. Though, he wondered why it had never been done before.

“What then?” asked Ruby.

“Then…” James sighed. “Then, we’re going to tell the world about Salem.” Qrow sucked in a breath. “If we can take away her element of surprise, her shadows, we can eliminate so much of her advantage. We can unite the world against her and destroy her.”

“What about the panic?” asked Yang, spreading her hands. “You’re going to turn the whole world into a Grimm-attracting riot. People will die.”

James frowned. “I’ve… thought about that. The Atlesian military will offer aid to all those who need it. In doing so, we can minimize the loss of life.”

“The Atlesian military can’t even control Mantle!” shouted Nora. James jumped and so did everyone else. Nora pushed through them and shoved a finger at James. “We were arrested for trying to help against Grimm and you want to make the whole _world_ like that?” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “People will die! Lots of innocent, scared people will die!”

“Ms. Valkyrie—” started James.

“Jim,” said Qrow, his voice soft. The kids stilled, as if straining to hear Qrow. “She’s right. There’s no military in Mantle. The Grimm were running rampant. We stepped in because _your_ Knights couldn’t do anything about them.”

James blinked a few times. “That’s… not right. The military is supposed to divide its time between Mantle and Atlas.”

“Is that what they tell you?” asked Blake. “Or is that what you see?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Because it seems to me that someone is lying.”

“Or something’s getting lost in the system,” said Jaune, sounding gentler. “But they’re all right, General Ironwood. If the military can’t protect Mantle, which is right here, how can it hope to protect the world? Mistral has no hunters. Salem had them all killed.”

James blinked. “What?”

“And Vale’s hunters are spread too thin,” said Yang, stepping forward. “They were begging Dad to take missions, before I left, and the only reason he didn’t is because I was there.”

“And Menagerie doesn’t _have_ a hunting school,” said Blake. “It’s only because our home is so peaceful that the desert Grimm don’t destroy our lives.”

“Not to mention, Vacuo doesn’t have an organized hunter association,” said Weiss. “So even if they have hunters, they’re not going to be able to help efficiently.” Qrow raised an eyebrow at Weiss, so did Yang. She flushed. “I listened when Sun talked! …Sometimes.”

“The point,” said Yang, sounding surprisingly calm despite the situation, “is that your plan _sounds_ great. Telling people could unite them, but it could cause a lot of panic, and it doesn’t seem like you know enough of that’s going on even in your own kingdom, let alone the rest of Remnant.”

James swayed on his feet and closed his eyes, putting one hand over his face. He let out a soft, shaky sigh. Qrow squeezed his shoulder again, leaning closer to him to look at James’ eyes. James moved his hand and cracked open one eye to look at Qrow.

“That’s a lot of information to handle,” murmured James. “And I’m not sure how to… process most of it.” He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “When I was brought into Ozpin’s inner circle, Ozpin told me that Salem, before anything else, sought to divide us. That she was stronger so long as humanity was divided.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand, his right hand braced on the hologram projecting table. “But Ozpin was also certain that telling the world about Salem was the wrong choice.”

Qrow rubbed his shoulder, unsure what to say. These were all things he’d thought about, when they’d been walking to Argus, then in Argus, and then on the flight here. He’d had a week to put together what Jinn had told them – not long enough, if you asked him – not to mention the weeks in Mistral, while he worked through the loss of a lot of his old acquaintances, and even friends.

Granted, he’d been _drunk_ , but that was besides the point.

“You didn’t know,” said Qrow.

“You should have,” said Nora.

Qrow frowned.

“She’s right,” said James. He stood up straight and rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have known. Mantle is so close by, I could have checked myself, at any point. And we have the means to fly out and check on other kingdoms. I didn’t.” He tapped the holograms and they disappeared. The table folded back into the floor. “I made my plans based on the information I had. Now, that information has changed. I need to… regroup.”

“You’re going to listen to us?” asked Nora, sounding quiet and confused.

James furrowed his brow. “Of course. You’ve seen the situation firsthand, I haven’t. Besides, I’ve no reason to believe you’d lie to me.” He sighed. “I don’t believe that keeping Salem a secret from the world is the right call, but I also know that the panic this revelation would cause is massive. If the other kingdoms are as strained as you say, then we must prepare even more than I thought. Starting with Mantle.” He shook his head. “With Ozpin gone, I’ve had to make my own plans. It seems they were not as infallible as I’d hoped.”

“Ozpin’s not gone,” said Qrow, releasing James’ shoulder. He nodded to Oscar. “Oscar here is the next Oz.”

James’ face _lit up_ in a way that made Qrow immediately feel guilty.

“Ozpin? Oh that’s wonderful,” said James, hurrying over to Oscar. “I’ve been so worried—”

“They’re not here,” said Oscar, curling back a bit. He took half a step back. “I mean. I have them in my head, but… they’ve gone quiet. I can’t talk to them.”

James took a knee and rested his across his other leg, putting him lower than Oscar. “They?” he echoed.

Oscar paled. “Did you not—”

“I knew,” said James. “The inner circle always knew. It’s…” He smiled. “It’s good to hear that _that_ at least, has changed. That more people know what to call them.” He cleared his throat. “But you said you can’t communicate with them?”

Oscar shook his head. “No. Not at all. They sort of… vanished.”

James frowned and looked away. “That’s not normal.” He looked back at Oscar. “Do you know when this happened?”

“Uh…” Oscar looked at Ruby, his eyes wide, and Ruby looked at Qrow. It was a narrow-eyed look with a raised eyebrow and a tilted head. One that Summer had given him a thousand times on the battlefield. He swallowed and nodded to her.

“You should sit down,” said Ruby, looking from Qrow to James. Her voice held a note of command, of authority, that Qrow rarely heard. Her team started and James stared at her. “We have a lot to tell you. There are things we learned on our way here that you need to know, if you’re going to change your plan.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And you should call in the Ace-Ops, if they’re part of your inner circle. They should know, too.”

James got to his feet and cast a look at Qrow, before looking back at Ruby. “All right, Ms. Rose,” he said, with a nod. “Let me call them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are deeply appreciated! I adore each and every one of them. Plus, we could all use some positivity this weekend, I think.


	3. The Girl in the Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While CRWBY decided, reasonably, to cut the confessions and show only the reactions, due to the fact that we're already heard the truth and they had a limited amount of time, I've chosen not to. The explanation, and the interruptions, are important. Plus, I'm not working on a time limit with a ton of animators depending on me to give them something they can work with.
> 
> Let's go.

It took a few minutes to get everyone into the room. The Ace-Ops brought in two more chairs, allowing them, as well as Winter and Penny to sit. James sat at his desk, which Qrow had perched himself on the corner of, and the kids mostly lingered on the walls, clustered in their teams. Oscar lingered near Jaune, looking awkward and hugging himself.

All eyes were on Ruby, who stood in the centre of the office with her back to the door so she could face them all. She fidgeted with the edges of her cape, looking much more unsure than she had only minutes ago. Qrow debated getting up and explaining everything himself, but he knew this was important to Ruby, even if it was hard for her. The firm line of her mouth, despite her twitching fingers and darting eyes, said as much.

“We’re ready whenever you are, Ms. Rose,” said James. His voice was gentle, but when Qrow looked at him, all he could see was tension. The hold of his shoulders, the clenched fingers on his legs, beneath the desk, the ramrod straightness of his spine, and the slight motion in his jaw as he ground his teeth.

He reached out and rested a hand on James’ shoulder, rubbing his thumb in slow circles in the fabric.

“Right, okay,” said Ruby. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just um. You know that whole ‘don’t shoot the messenger thing?’ It applies here.” Her eyes darted to Oscar. “And ‘don’t shoot the guy who has Ozpin in his head’ too, okay?”

Qrow winced and looked away. He still felt bad about that. He’d forgotten himself in his anger and Ozpin hadn’t projected their shared aura with Oscar, so Oscar had ended up with a black eye and a bruised back from Qrow and hitting the tree.

“Of course, Ms. Rose,” said James, nodding. “Whatever you’re going to say, no one will be upset with you or Oscar.”

Ruby nodded. “Okay, okay.” She exhaled, slow and shaky. “I guess I should start where we did. Ozpin told all of us that the Relic of Knowledge, the lamp, is out of questions.”

All the Atlesians nodded.

“Right,” said Ruby. “It’s not.”

“It’s not?” echoed James. He shifted in his seat, leaning forward. “But why would Ozpin—”

“General Ironwood?” Yang’s voice. She fiddled with a strand of her hair, standing close to Blake. Weiss lingered half a step to her right, looking at the floor and hugging herself. “You should wait to ask questions.”

“Yeah,” said Jaune, from the other side of the room. He rubbed one arm. “There’s a lot.”

James settled back in his seat and nodded. He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Right,” he said. “Continue. Please.”

“There were two questions left,” said Ruby. She shifted, hands starting to move as she spoke. “Were, because I used one.” She looked passed all of them to look James right in the eye. “I asked the guardian of the lamp, Jinn, what Ozpin was hiding from us.”

Silence. James let out a slow breath. He nodded, his eyes narrowing, and his brows bunched together over his nose. His shoulders held enough tension that Qrow feared he’d hurt himself. He kept rubbing his thumb, trying to assure James he wasn’t alone.

“It was… a lot,” said Ruby, slowly. She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. Qrow could see her chewing the inside of her cheek. “I guess I should start where she did.” She took a breath. “Do you know the story of The Girl in the Tower?”

James nodded, his brow furrowed.

“Well… it’s true,” said Ruby. “At least, it’s a lot more true than the maiden story was.”

“I don’t understand,” said James.

Ruby sighed and slumped, her arms hanging at her sides. “Yeah, no, that wasn’t very good.” She huffed again. “Okay, okay.” Another deep breath. Qrow watched her, trying to convey his confidence in her through his eyes. She met his gaze and he offered her a little smile. She returned it.

“Salem hasn’t always been the monster we know,” started Ruby. “Once, she was human, just like us. Or rather, she was _more_ human than us, because as it turns out, we’re not the first time the Gods created humans…”

As Ruby began to speak, a different sort of hush fell over the room. Where, before, it had been anticipatory and confused, now it was awed and slightly terrified. Qrow could almost taste the fear in the air, and it let his tongue bitter and dry.

She explained everything as they’d seen it, with an eye for detail that Qrow hadn’t had in the moment.

It started with Salem and her magic and Ozma saving her from her own father. Ruby explained the way the two had fallen in love, quoting what Salem and Ozma had said in the memories.

_“What do we do now?”_

_“Whatever we want.”_

The words still echoed in Qrow’s chest, heavy and beautiful. It spoke so much of what they’d been, before it had all gone to hell.

Then, she told of Ozma’s death, and Salem’s grief. The way she described the gods, as massive, monstrous beasts made of light and shadow, had Qrow fighting a shiver. He felt James twitch under his hand and scooted closer. He dropped his hand from James’ shoulder to James’ hand, which rested upon the desk.

As she explained the way the gods had brought back and destroyed Ozma over and over in front of Salem, Qrow felt a pang of sympathy. He saw the flicker in the Ace-Ops, saw the way the faunus tensed and his tail drooped. Pain, compassion, for the very woman they were trying to kill.

Did it bode well?

Into Salem’s despair and her hatred, how she proved herself invincible against the kings and queens across the world. How she told the story of what happened to her, leaving out details as she went, explaining that the gods were monsters, that they deserved to die.

And then, the destruction of humanity’s first chance at life.

At that, there was a gasp in the room, from the taller of the two women in the Ace-Ops. Qrow felt James suck in a breath behind him and glanced to James, who stared at Ruby with wide eyes and parted lips.

They were not the first children of the gods. They were the broken creatures that had come after the perfect children’s destruction.

They had clawed their way into existence, no better than any other creature.

Ruby explained Salem’s despair, how Salem had walked Remnant alone until she found the home of the Brother of Darkness once again. How she had cast herself into the pits in hopes of finally, _finally_ dying. How she had failed. How she had risen, a darkness within her, changed.

For the first time, Qrow wondered what was left of the woman from before, the girl in the tower. If Salem had any humanity left behind the no doubt dozen layers of Grimm.

And, if she did, did it matter?

Ruby told of Ozma being brought back and told to unite humanity. The way she told it, they were given an impossible task and manipulated into doing it. Qrow started at that. He hadn’t even considered that angle. Ruby wasn’t fond of Oz, right now, but it seemed she was even less fond of the old gods.

Qrow could relate. As much as he hated what Oz had done, he couldn’t shake the sympathy for their pain. They’d been given a chance to be with the woman they loved again. Who could blame them for taking it?

Qrow glanced at James.

Who, indeed?

Telling the story of Oz reuniting with Salem had Ruby faltering again. She pressed her lips together, stopping after she echoed their words to one another, once more.

_“What do we do now?”_

_“Whatever we want.”_

A heavy silence fell over the room. As Qrow looked closely, he saw the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I don’t know their names,” she whispered. In the silence, the words were as loud as a shout. She lifted her head and looked at Oscar, who furrowed his brow. A moment later, his face smoothed and shifted to sorrow, he dropped his head and his gaze.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Neither do I.”

Ruby cleared her throat and nodded. She started again.

Salem and Ozma’s relationship, the secrets they kept from one another, the children they had, and the slow descent of Salem into madness and darkness. The other soul of Ozma’s – not absorbed, never absorbed, because Ozpin had lied. They never merged. Jinn had proven that – asking Ozma what they were doing.

The fight. The fall.

The death of the children.

James tensed at those words. Qrow heard him suck in and hold a breath. Qrow ducked his head and looked at their joined hands. He slipped his fingers between James’ and squeezed.

James squeezed back.

Then, the death of Ozma and the beginning of the cycle of rebirth.

Ruby commented on details that Qrow hadn’t noticed. How Ozma kept themself at a distance from so many of their reincarnations, how they completely dominated others, how their grief drove them to self-destructive tendencies over and over again. Like drinking.

Qrow winced at that.

How Ozma’s magic had started the silver-eyed warriors, through the children of those souls Oz shared a body with.

And then, the questions.

And Ruby’s last words echoed in the room.

“Oz asked Jinn how they could destroy Salem,” said Ruby, clasping her hands in front of her. She lifted her head, her silver eyes meeting James’ dark blue. “She said, ‘you can’t’.”

Silence.

“We can’t destroy Salem,” echoed James. He took his hand from Qrow’s and put his head in both hands, his elbows on his desk. “Then how—”

“No.” Nora’s voice. She pushed off the wall and stood next to Ruby, folding her arms across her chest. “She said _Oz_ can’t destroy Salem. That doesn’t mean no one else can.”

“And it doesn’t mean no one else can stop her,” said Ruby. “Maybe Salem can’t die, but Oz has pushed her back again and again. We can find a way to stop her, forever.”

“You seem very sure of that,” said James. He sounded _tired_. So tired that Qrow wanted to reach over and hug him again.

Ruby sighed. “I’m not sure of anything, General Ironwood. But I have to keep hope. If we don’t… then what are we even fighting for?”

James nodded, but he didn’t lift his head from where it was bowed in his hands. Qrow reached out, hesitated, then dropped his hand onto James’ shoulder.

“General?” asked Clover, turning to face him. One by one, all eyes turned to James. Qrow tensed, pressing his lips together. He wanted to shield James from their eyes, if only because he knew that in this moment, James was as vulnerable as he’d been, when he’d first found out. While Qrow had broken, lashed out, and then shrunk into himself via old alcohol, James didn’t have that option.

What the hell was he going to do?

“This doesn’t change the immediate future,” said James, his voice firm. “My plan remains. We need to reconnect the world and re-establish communications across the kingdoms. Everything that comes after can wait.” He looked up at Ruby. “Thank you, Ms. Rose, for telling us all of this. Your trust in me is appreciated and…” He took a breath and let out a quiet sigh. “I won’t let you down.” His words were soft, half broken, and spoken partially behind one hand.

Ruby smiled, wobbly and unsure, but there all the same. “You’re taking this really well,” said Ruby, her voice gentle. “I’m sure we can figure something out together, General Ironwood.” She crossed the space and climbed the two steps to James’ desk, reaching across it to rest her hand on one of his. “You’re not alone. You’ve got a huge inner circle now, and with all of us together, we can accomplish anything. I just know it.”

James offered her a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thank you, Ruby.” He cleared his throat and straightened, the mask falling back into place. Qrow frowned, not bothering to hide his annoyance at the mask. James needed to deal with this.

“I imagine you all have a lot of questions for me,” said James. “But I think we should save those for tomorrow, if that’s all right with all of you.”

Ruby sighed and slumped. She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, rest would be great. It’s been a really long day.”

James nodded and beckoned to Penny with one hand. “Penny can show you where you’ll be staying.”

“Right!” said Penny, stepping forward. She saluted James and beamed at the kids. “Come on! I’ll show you the dorms. You’re going to love them!” She struck off, arms swinging as she walked. The kids followed after, but Qrow didn’t miss the way a few of them hesitated and looked back. Yang was the most obvious, lifting her left arm to rub at her right before she followed them out, Blake’s hand on her lower back.

That left the Ace-Ops.

“What would you like us to do, sir?” asked Clover.

James closed his eyes and took a breath. “Get some rest. We have a lot to do in the coming days. Take the night to understand what you’ve learned and to gather your thoughts. Tomorrow, we’ll all talk more about how this changes things.” He nodded. “Dismissed.”

Clover nodded. One by one, the Ace-Ops got to their feet and left. Though, Clover hesitated and narrowed his eyes at James, hanging back from the rest. His gaze went to Qrow and he raised an eyebrow. Qrow shrugged, unsure what else to do.

“You too, Winter,” said James. “Get some rest.”

Winter nodded. “Yessir.” She left and Clover closed the door on his way out.

That left James and Qrow alone.

Qrow hesitated, waiting to see what James did.

He didn’t have to wait long. Moments after the door shut, James pressed his face into his hands and let out an awful, shaky sob. His entire body seemed to curl in on itself and shrink down until he was a fraction of his size. Qrow wrapped his arms around James’ shoulders and rested his cheek atop James’ head.

“I know,” whispered Qrow, rubbing James’ shoulder with one hand and squeezing with the other. “I know, I know.” He pressed himself as tight as he could to James.

“She can’t be destroyed,” whispered James into his hands. “How do we defeat someone who can’t be destroyed?”

Qrow let out a slow breath. It was the same question he’d asked himself a dozen times since Jinn’s words had first echoed in his ears.

“I don’t know, exactly,” said Qrow, into James’ hair. “But the kids are right. Oz has pushed her back before, and all Jinn said was _Oz_ couldn’t destroy her. She only answers what she’s asked, Jim.”

James lifted his head from his hands just enough to look out and Qrow followed his gaze to the still-floating lamp on his desk.

“We could ask,” whispered James. “There’s one question left, isn’t there?”

“James…” Qrow trailed off, unsure what exactly to say.

“I know. It’s not my place. I didn’t fight for it, nor am I alone. Whatever the third question is, it is Ruby’s to ask.” James sighed. “I wouldn’t take that from her.”

“I know,” said Qrow. He hadn’t been certain, but having James speak those words aloud made it easier to believe.

James straightened and sighed again, rubbing a hand over the lower half of his face. “This… changes everything.” His words were soft, hollow.

Qrow said, “I know.” He straightened as well, still holding James and still perching on his desk. There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, a lot of things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to start. Did he tell James how he’d felt, finding out? Did he explain the way the kids had reacted? Did he talk about the farm, the doubts, the way Oz had reacted when they’d all found out the truth?

Or would all of that make it worse? James seemed like he was on the edge of control, like anything else could send him spiralling. When Qrow had spiralled, it had been a dozen people depending on him. All of them strong and capable. If James spiralled, there was an entire kingdom, thousands upon thousands of civilians without active auras or fighting skills, that would suffer without him.

How could Qrow bring him back from this edge?

“What do you think?” asked James, his voice hollow. “The CCT is still important, but the rest…” He grimaced and shook his head, then looked up at Qrow. “You must have some ideas about all of this.”

Qrow shifted where he sat and leaned closer to James. “A few,” he admitted. He hadn’t had a lot of time to wrap his head around James’ ideas, but the kids all brought up great points. “I don’t think the world is prepared to know about Salem. There’s too much going on. It could be the tipping point to destroying all the kingdoms.” At James’ morose expression, Qrow continued with, “But, I think you might have the right idea. Secrets have never done us any favours, Jim. Removing as many as possible would go a long way in this war.”

James nodded. His shoulders were still tensed, but they lowered marginally. “I don’t want to make things worse. I’ve…” He put a hand over his eyes and sighed. His breath came out trembling, almost a cry, and Qrow reached out, laying a hand on him again. “I’ve _tried_ , Qrow. I’ve done the best I could with the information I had. This…”

“It’s not your fault,” said Qrow, rubbing James’ shoulder. “You’re right, you’ve done everything you could.”

“It’s not good enough,” said James.

Qrow frowned. “That’s not on you. If everything you knew was _right_ , this wouldn’t be a problem. This plan would work just fine. But you didn’t know everything – none of us did. Oz hid a _lot_ that they never told anyone about. We couldn’t have guessed any of this shit.”

James shook his head. “Salem was human, once,” he murmured. “Does that mean we could become just like her? That our emotions could transform us into monsters?” He cast his gaze up to Qrow and Qrow sucked in a breath at the open vulnerability in Qrow’s face. “Are our hearts a weakness, Qrow? Just as fear is?”

“No!” Qrow’s voice came out louder than he meant. Both of them jumped a bit at it. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “James…” He shook his head. “Fuck, no, our hearts aren’t weaknesses. They make us human. Same with fear, as much as it’s _shit._ ” He grimaced, trying to find a better way to phrase things. “What would we be, without our hearts?”

“Fearless,” said James. “For starters.”

“Loveless,” replied Qrow. “You wanna go through life without loving anyone? Without ever being happy? Or excited?” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I’m not the optimistic one out of us, usually, but…” He sighed. “I get it. When I found out the truth, I gave up. I drank myself so deep into the bottle that I nearly got everyone killed.” His voice wobbled as he spoke. The memories played out behind his eyes. The girls, yanking him away. Weiss, burning the place. The Apathy.

Gods, the Apathy. The Apathy were the worst part. Qrow hadn’t even known they existed. Now, they haunted his dreams and nightmares.

Now they followed him into the darkness.

“I almost died, James,” said Qrow, his voice wobbling. “Not because I was in danger, but because I _wanted to die._ ” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “And for what? To leave this war to everyone else? To let everyone down? No. I’m… I’ve got to believe I’m better than that.”

James stared at him, his eyes wide. “Oh, Qrow.” He stood, chair sliding away from his desk, and wrapped his arms around Qrow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even _think_ …”

“It’s not important,” murmured Qrow, slipping his arms around James. He rested his cheek on James’ shoulder.

“Of course it is. You haven’t had long to absorb this, either,” replied James.

Qrow snorted. “About a week.” Maybe a little less, if he were honest, but he hadn’t really kept track of the days while he was drinking himself into a stupor. He lifted his head from James’ shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Don’t…” He shook his head. “I called you heartless, once.” His voice was low, hoarse. “But I was wrong. You’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know. Don’t destroy that to try and fight her.”

“Do you really think we can beat her, as we are?” asked James.

Qrow thought about it. Could they take on Salem, not knowing if she could be destroyed, not knowing how to take her down, without Ozpin to help them, without knowledge of Salem outside of what they’d parsed from Jinn and what Ozpin had, presumably, not lied about? Could they take on her inner circle? Her Grimm?

“I don’t know,” admitted Qrow. “But I know that destroying what makes us unique, what makes us _human_ , isn’t the answer.” He laid his hand over James’ chest, feeling for the beating heart beneath the layers. It was there, but only faintly. Qrow swallowed.

He’d almost lost that heart, once.

Qrow cleared his throat.

“Our hearts make us different from her,” said Qrow, staring at the straps of James’ uniform. He dragged his gaze up to James’. “She couldn’t handle her heart, James. When she lost Oz, she tried to destroy everything that made her human.” He stared into James’ eyes, deep blue meeting soft red. “If we go down the same path, we’ll end up just like her.”

James smiled and bowed his head until their foreheads brushed. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That helps.”

“We might not have all the answers, James, but we can’t find them alone.” Qrow cast a glance toward the door and sighed. “And the kids are determined to save the world. I think we’ve got to look to them for the answers.” He frowned, thinking back. Something that had bothered him since Ruby had woken up in Patch, a year and a half ago, tugged at his mind. “I think Oz thought Ruby was the answer.” His words were soft, hushed.

“Really?” asked James. Qrow turned his gaze back to James and nodded. “They did admit her early.”

Qrow gave a quiet sigh. “I don’t trust Oz much, anymore. But Ruby… there’s something in her James. Something that reminds me of Summer, but…” He frowned. “She’s got more support than Summer ever did. More answers.”

James nodded. “I understand.” He cast his gaze to the side and frowned at the lamp, still floating, still glowing. “I’ll give that back to her.”

Qrow’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? I’d have thought you’d wanna lock it up with the staff.” He wondered where Fria was. She was old enough to be his grandmother, and she hadn’t been in amazing health last time he’d been in Atlas. James was all about control. So, where was Fria? And what was James’ plan for the next Winter Maiden?

Something that important wouldn’t be left untouched or left to chance. Especially not with James handling it.

“No,” said James. “Fria isn’t… in any condition to open the vault, regardless. But I believe the lamp is fine with Ruby. She has trusted me with so much and I’d like to show I trust her as well.” His gaze darted from the lamp, to Qrow, to the lamp, and then settled on Qrow. “I’ll give it to her in the morning. It’ll be safe here for the night.”

Qrow snorted. “Yeah, this place is as secure as any vault when you lock it up.”

James hummed and stepped back from Qrow. He cleared his throat and reached up, touching the back of his neck. “Well. It’s late. I suppose we should head home.”

Qrow grinned. “I’m bunking with you?” he asked, a touch of amusement in his voice. He raised an eyebrow and watched as James turned pink. “Yeah, yeah. I know, Jim. We’re married.” He winked. His head was starting to swim, his stomach starting to churn. He didn’t know if he’d sleep, tonight. But at least he wouldn’t be alone. If something went sideways, he could shout for James. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

“You’re also my friend, Qrow. And I… enjoy having you at my side in all things.” James’ ears had turned to little red flags. “But if that isn’t agreeable…”

“James?” Qrow cut him off. “Take me home.”

James smiled. “Right. After you.” He gestured for Qrow to move first and Qrow did. James locked the lamp back into his desk, locked his office down with the shutters on the windows, and set the security panel up as they left.

As they headed down the hallway and toward the exit of the building, Qrow was torn between relief and anxiety. Relief of finally being in Atlas, of having help, of not being the only adult in the room. Anxiety over what came next and over his own withdrawal.

The next few days were going to be _hell_ and Qrow only hoped that James would understand why Qrow was doing this, once Qrow finally found the words to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	4. Bunk Beds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this fic is about V7 and Atlas, it would be a bit of a shame if we only focused on Qrow. We'd miss so much! So, this is the first chapter where we're focused entirely on someone else. Hope you enjoy!

Penny led the group from one end of the school to the other, all the way to the dorms that the students stayed in. Ruby lingered in the back, her lips pressed together and her gaze darting between her friends as she watched them wither with each hallway they passed.

“Each team will have their own dorm,” said Penny, turning to beam at the eight. “Oh, Oscar, you’ll be rooming with Jaune, Nora, and Ren. I hope that’s okay.”

Oscar nodded, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of one hand. “It’s fine. Thank you.” He yawned. “Can we go to bed now?”

Penny giggled. “Of course! I forget sometimes how important sleep is.” She blinked. “You know, because I don’t need it.” She marched them up the stairs and to their rooms, which were side by side in the hallway. They were on a level with a balcony overlooking the main area, like a sort of beehive. Ruby thought it was neat, but she couldn’t focus on it.

She still couldn’t get over the fact that _Penny_ was showing them around. Penny. Alive and well and looking better and more beautiful than ever. The long hair suited her so well. The gloves were cute. The jet boots were fascinating. How did they work? Why had Dr. Polendina built her to look so different from himself?

How was she even alive?

Was she the same Penny? And, if she was, why couldn’t Ruby reconcile the girl before her with the one torn to pieces in the Amity Coliseum, a year and a half prior?

“This is going to be so much fun,” said Penny, skipping toward their doors. “It’ll be just like Beacon again!”

Yang snorted. “I hope not. Or else this school is gonna be in pieces in a few months.”

“Do you think Atlas has its own version of the Grimm Wyvern?” asked Blake, looking at Yang. She cast a look to Ruby. “Though, I imagine that’ll go better, this time, since you know what to do.” She smiled at Ruby. Ruby offered her a weak smile back.

Images of Pyrrha, Cinder, the arrow, all whirled behind her eyes, blurring with the images of Penny, torn to shreds, until Ruby saw Cinder, broken and snarling, striking down this new Penny in the tattered remains of General Ironwood’s office.

She shuddered, entire body trembling, and hugged herself. Anxiety bubbled up underneath her skin until she wanted to clap her hands over her ears and _scream._

A hand on her shoulder, emotions falling away until a soft calm flowed across her skin. Ruby looked and saw Ren, his fingers curled against her shoulder, beneath her cape.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, stepping in close. “You’re okay.” The pink of his aura slid across her skin, desaturating her colours. He let go. The calm faded but the anxiety didn’t flow in to fill it. It would, and shortly, but at least she had a few minutes to herself.

Penny was showing everyone their rooms.

“You don’t have to make bunk beds in these dorms,” Penny was saying, “because they’re built into the walls.” Yang and Weiss leaned into the room, both of them ‘oohing’ over it.

Weiss sighed. “At least these won’t run the risk of crushing me in my sleep.” She cast a glance at Ruby, a twinkle in her eye, then furrowed her brow at her. “Are you okay, Ruby?”

Yang looked away from the room and Blake looked from where she’d been talking to Jaune.

“Fine!” said Ruby, forcing false cheer into her voice. She rubbed the back of her neck and let out a quiet, awkward laugh. “Just… really tired. It’s been a long week.” She yawned for effect and ducked around Weiss and Yang to slip into the dorm. “Come on. Let’s pick some beds and get some rest. We’ve got a lot of stuff to do tomorrow.”

Yang nodded with narrowed eyes. “Right. Thanks Penny.”

Everyone said their thanks and disappeared into their rooms. As Ren passed the door, he gave Ruby and look and Ruby shrugged, letting her gaze dart away from him. Ren gaze a quiet sigh and kept going, catching up with the rest of his team.

Penny lingered in the door as all Ruby’s teammates milled about.

“It’s really great seeing you all again,” said Penny, clasping her hands in front of her. “I can’t wait to spend time with all of you and catch up.” She bounced on her heels and giggled. “But I have to go do patrols.” She gave them a salute. “I’ll talk to you all later! I’m really looking forward to it.” With that, she turned and skipped off, hurrying away.

The door slid shut as Penny passed out of view and Ruby let out a quiet noise, crumbling onto one of the beds. She buried her face in her hands as all the images, all the fears, all the _everything_ came crashing down upon her once again.

A wail ripped itself from her throat and she couldn’t stop it. Tears pooled and fell. Every inch of her trembled and shook as she started to sob.

“Ruby!” Yang’s voice, then Yang’s arms wrapping tight around her. Ruby dropped her head to Yang’s shoulder and cried, gripping Yang’s jacket as tight as she could. She sobbed, soaking the jacket and her face and her hair.

No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t shake the fear. Penny had stepped out of sight, which meant Penny was gone. Had it all been a dream? Were they even in Atlas? Or were they still on Brunswick Farms, trapped in the nightmare that never seemed to end?

Penny had _died._ Ruby knew that. She’d failed to save her. She’d failed to protect her. Penny had died and Pyrrha had blamed herself and then Pyrrha had died too. And Ruby had watched them all. Pyrrha. Penny. She’d watched people be eaten and killed. She’d watched the crash of Pyrrha’s circlet against the floor. She’d seen the light go out of Penny’s eyes.

She’d mourned Penny. She’d grieved for her. The first person she’d ever _loved_ had _died_. And Ruby had never gotten a chance to tell her.

And now she was back, alive, as if nothing had ever happened, as if she hadn’t taken Ruby’s heart with her when she’d died and forgotten to return it when she’d reached out and touched Ruby in Mantle, only hours before.

It wasn’t fair.

Shouldn’t she be happy? Excited? After all, she’d gotten the girl she loved back.

So why couldn’t she stop crying?

“Ruby, hey, what’s going on?” Yang’s voice. “Talk to us.”

“Please,” said Blake.

They didn’t know. Of course they didn’t know. Ruby hadn’t mourned Penny with RWBY, she’d mourned her with RNJR. They had helped her through the worst of it. They’d helped her understand her feelings. They’d helped her grieve without destroying herself.

They knew she loved Penny.

RWBY didn’t.

Ruby’s chest hurt. She hated to admit, didn’t want to believe it, but in that moment, she missed Team RNJR.

She didn’t want to explain this again.

“It’s fine,” croaked Ruby, finding her voice again. It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t anything _approaching_ fine. But what else could she say? She didn’t want their pity, or their gentle words of sympathy. She wanted Jaune, who would look her in the eye and tell her he understood, because he did. Because he never got the chance, either.

She wanted Ren, who would soothe the worst of her fears and anxieties with his semblance and soothe the rest with his words and his hands as he held her close.

She wanted Nora, who would sing to her, slightly off-key but no less beautiful, stroking her hair until she fell asleep.

She wanted Uncle Qrow, who looked at her like he understood everything she’d lost. Like he’d lost all of it, too.

A knock at the door. It opened.

“We’re a little busy, right now,” said Weiss. Her voice had a hard edge to it.

“Yeah,” came Nora’s equally sharp reply. “We heard.” A shift as the bed dipped once, twice. Nora’s voice was behind her. “Easy, Ruby. You’re okay.” Nora’s hands slid up and down her back, her chin tucking into onto Ruby’s shoulder. “We’ve got you. Ren?”

Ren’s hand on the side of her face, brushing away her tears. “You’ll be okay. This must be hard for you, but you’re doing so well. It’s okay to cry.” He stroked her face and she felt the calm soothe over her. “Nora’s right. We’re all right here.”

A brush of skin on her knees. She opened her eyes and saw Jaune crouched in front of her. He smiled at her, the depths of his sadness revealed in his eyes. She managed to smile back.

“I get it,” said Jaune. “But you’re okay. She’s alive, and no matter how long it takes for you to be okay with that, we’ll be here.”

“What’s… going on?” came Blake’s voice. Ruby turned her head enough to see Blake and Weiss giving them all a strange look. Yang still held Ruby close, but she’d tensed, if only slightly, if only for a moment, before relaxing again.

“We were her team after the fall, remember?” said Nora. “We know what this is doing to her.”

“We know how she feels,” said Jaune. “About Penny.”

Silence. Then,

“Oh,” said Yang, her voice tiny. “I didn’t realize…”

“It’s fine,” mumbled Ruby. She didn’t want to have this conversation. “We had other things to do than talk about me being in love with a dead girl.” Her words hitched and she swallowed around the lump in her throat.

“Alive girl,” corrected Jaune.

“Very much alive girl,” said Nora. Ruby tilted her head so Ren could stroke her face more easily.

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered.

“I will sleep next to you, if you need me to,” said Ren. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Yang said, “I didn’t realize how bad it was for you, when you were on the road.”

Ruby shrugged. “I mean it wasn’t. I had them.” She reached out and laid a hand on Jaune’s. “They kept me going, helped me deal with stuff. It’s just…” She sighed. “We had so much to _do_ once you guys came back, and there wasn’t a lot of _time._ ” She clenched her hands into fists. Jaune stretched one hand back out and held it in one of his. Her other had remained clenched in Yang’s jacket. “So, I just pushed it all away. I had to be strong. Everyone else was hurting. You were so _angry_ about Blake, and Weiss was so scared, and then Blake was too and…” She took a shaky breath. “I just wanted to be strong for all of you,” she whispered.

“Oh, Ruby,” whispered Yang, holding her close. She kissed her hair. “You don’t need to be strong all the time. We’re your friends. We want to help you.”

“Agreed,” said Weiss. She shifted and Ruby watched her cross the space and lean on the wall next to Yang, between the sets of bunk beds. “Of course, we all have issues, but that doesn’t mean we should push our own aside to help each other. You said you’d be by my side, coming back to Atlas. Let me be by yours, as well.”

Ruby sniffled and lifted her hand from Yang’s jacket to wipe at her eyes. “I guess,” she mumbled.

“I get it, you know,” said Blake. She sat down next to Jaune on the floor, resting on her knees as she leaned forward and laid her hand on Ruby’s knee, atop Jaune’s. “You want to be strong. You want to leave the past behind. You want to move forward and be grateful for what you have, now, and not bog it down with the traumas of yesterday.” Her fingers curled tight against Jaune’s. Jaune flipped his hand over and tangled their fingers together. “But that’s not how it works. You can’t fight the past, Ruby. You can’t ignore it. All we can do is try and deal with it, and try to understand how it shapes us.”

Ruby sniffled again. She wiped at her nose and made a face before rubbing it off on her skirt. It needed to be washed, anyway.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “All of you, really. Just… thanks.” She sighed, bowing her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” said Ren. “Your traumas are just as valid and important as any of ours. Perhaps more, at the moment, as we’ve largely been dealing with ours while you push yours aside for our sakes.”

Ruby winced. “I don’t wanna be more important than anyone else.” She pulled her hand from Jaune’s and waved them both back and forth. “I just… I just want to be like everyone else.”

“Normal knees?” asked Yang.

Ruby turned her head to smile at her. “Normal knees,” she agreed.

“We should try and get some sleep,” said Jaune. He looked to his side and Ruby followed his gaze to the door, where Oscar watched, hugging one arm. “It’s late, and we’re all tired.”

“Hi, Oscar,” mumbled Ruby. “Welcome to sad town.”

Oscar offered her a smile. “Hey, from what I’ve heard, it’s a lot to take in. I remember you telling me about Penny, back in Mistral. I didn’t understand the _depth_ of it, back then, but I think I’m starting to, now.” He yawned, resting the back of one hand over his mouth. “But Jaune’s right. We should get some rest. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

Ruby nodded. “Thanks, everyone. Sorry to be so… this.”

“No sorry,” said Nora, poking her cheek as she wiggled around Ren and out of the bed. “We’re always here for you, Ruby.” She looked at Yang, Weiss, and Blake, one after the other. “And, you know, now your team knows. They can help too.” There was a touch of bitterness to her voice that Ruby winced at.

“Hey, I think that’s unnecessary,” said Weiss, putting her hands on her hips. “We were her team, first.”

“Yeah,” said Nora, folding her arms across her chest and tossing her head. “And _we’re_ the ones who put her back together after all of _you_ took off.” She waved one hand. “I mean, you have an excuse. Your dad is crazy. But Blake and Yang?” She shrugged. “They just gave up. We were the ones there for her. You all came back afterward and now she’s going backward.”

Ruby winced and looked between them all. Yang was tense at her side and her hair felt warmer than normal.

“Just saying,” said Nora.

“I don’t think there’s anything ‘just’ about what you’re saying,” said Weiss, stomping one foot. “You’re accusing us of hurting Ruby.”

“If the shoe fits,” said Nora, drily.

Blake got to her feet and frowned. “We had our reasons for what we did, Nora. I left to try and protect everyone from Adam. Yang was traumatized from losing her arm and from _me._ ” Her voice cracked low as she spoke and she grimaced. “We did the best we could.”

“So did we,” said Jaune, getting to his feet, as well. “I don’t think it’s fair to accuse anyone of anything. None of us set out to hurt anyone.”

“Funny how much someone got hurt, then,” said Nora. She eyed them all, eyes narrowed.

Ren sighed and stood as well, tugging his fingers through his hair. “Nora raises a point. Ruby has never been open about her traumas, in the past, but we were making great strides in helping her accept her feelings and learn to understand and deal with them. It seems, to me, as if she’s started shutting down again, since the three of you returned.” He cleared his throat. “You’re her teammates, her family, but I fear that Ruby’s guilt over wanting to be a good leader is harming her mental health in a large way.”

Yang was _definitely_ hotter than she should have been. Ruby felt the tears gathering again. She tried to push away from Yang but Yang held fast. Ruby shifted again. She wanted _out._ She wanted to be able to move.

“We’re not doing anything to hurt her,” snapped Yang, her voice right in Ruby’s ear. “She’s my little sister. I can help her just fine.”

“Like you helped her when she left Patch without you?” asked Nora. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, real great sisterly protection, right there.”

Yang leapt to her feet. Ruby wobbled and grabbed at the bed before she fell.

“I lost my arm! I lost a part of me I was never getting back. I think it was fair to mourn it.” Yang’s voice lifted to a shout.

“And she watched how many people die?” Nora’s voice rose as well. She threw her arms wide. Ruby put her hands over her ears. “Do you know what she’s been through? Do you know what she saw? We do!”

“We were her team first,” said Weiss, pushing to stand next to Yang. “She can talk to us whenever she wants.”

“Can she?” asked Ren, his voice cool. “Just because someone has the tools at their disposal doesn’t mean they’re comfortable using them. Ruby has proven many times that she pushes aside her own feelings for those around her.”

Blake snorted. “Oh, like that’s unique in this room. Don’t pretend you know her better than we do.” She folded her arms and scowled.

“Guys!” shouted Ruby. She felt the twist of her semblance and stumbled, halfway across the room in an instant. She spun around. “This isn’t helping. I don’t want you to fight.” Tears gathered and slipped down her cheeks. “This is why I don’t _talk_ about this stuff. I don’t want people to fight over me.” Her voice wobbled and broke. She wiped at her eyes and sniffled, whimpering quietly.

“RWBY is my team and I love you girls. You’re my family and I never want to be away from you. RNJR was the team I needed on the road, and I love you all, too. You’re all my family and you’re all my teammates. I just…” She sighed and bowed her head, watching the way the floor blurred with her tears. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Her last words were barely above a whisper, but in the sudden silence of the room, they seemed to echo.

“…Ruby,” said Yang. She reached out toward her and Ruby took a step back, hugging herself tightly.

“Did I make the best choice?” she asked, staring at the floor. “Was telling General Ironwood the only good option? Did I make a mistake?” She lifted her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. She dropped her hands and grimaced.

“I think you made the right call,” said Yang. She crossed the space and laid a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “He listened when we told him about everything, and he wants to talk tomorrow. What else could we ask for?”

“I don’t know,” said Ruby. She shrugged and hugged herself again. “I just… I don’t know.”

“Hey, no, talk to me,” said Yang. She reached up and nudged Ruby’s chin with one hand, lifting it to look Ruby in the eye. Yang was blurry from the tears that kept building in Ruby’s eyes, but she refused to let anymore fall. “You’re obviously thinking something.”

“It’s just… I’m trying to do what I think is best, but…” Ruby sighed. “I’m not sure if what’s _best_ is what’s _right_ , anymore.” She clenched her fists against her arms.

Her thoughts raced, but Ruby couldn’t solidify any of them. What if she’d made a huge mistake? What if the General panicked and did some rash? What if Uncle Qrow’s trust was misplaced? What if the General had changed since the last time Ruby had seen him? The last time Uncle Qrow had seen him?

What if Atlas was in danger, just with them being here?

What if the General used the last question and didn’t tell anyone?

“I think,” said Jaune, and Yang and Ruby both looked at him, “that there’s only so much we can do tonight. We have to trust that General Ironwood will make the right decisions, tonight, and that we can help tomorrow.” He smiled at Ruby. “You did everything you can, Ruby. That’s all anyone can ask for.”

She sighed. “I just want to do more.”

“What you need to do, right now, is get some rest,” said Ren.

“Agreed,” said Weiss. “We all need to sleep. It’s been an immeasurably long day and I suspect we have many more of those coming.” She put her hands on her hips. “As the resident experts in self-care, I think Ren and I should take the lead in ensuring we all get some sleep tonight.”

Ren raised an eyebrow. “We’re teaming up, now?” he asked.

Weiss flushed. “Well, if you want.”

“It makes sense, actually,” said Oscar, crossing the room.

“Thank you,” said Weiss, smiling.

Oscar chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not that, no, but that’s a great idea, too. I meant teaming up. You’re all worried about Ruby, and you’ve all worked on a team with her.” He spread his hands. “Why not… just be one team? The Ace-Ops seem to have five members, so why can’t your team have seven?”

“Eight,” corrected Nora and Ruby, in unison. Ruby looked at Nora, who beamed at her.

Nora said, “We wouldn’t leave you out, Oscar.”

He blushed and ducked his head. “I appreciate that,” he mumbled.

“I… actually think that’s a great idea,” said Jaune. “It would solve a lot of issues we have. And it’s not like we don’t swap around a ton, anyway.”

“Eight people on one team is quite unorthodox,” said Blake, tilting her head. Her ears swivelled. “But then, so are we.”

“Agreed,” said Weiss. “I’d be fine with an eight-person team.”

Yang and Ruby exchanged a look and Yang shrugged.

“No stranger than anything else,” she said.

“What would we even call ourselves?” asked Ruby.

“What about Ruby Junior?” asked Nora. “R-W-B-Y-J-N-O-R. Because it’s the second version of Team RWBY, and you’d still be our leader.” She put one hand on her hip. “I think it works great!”

“RWBYJNOR,” echoed Ruby, voice soft. She smiled at Nora. “Yeah… I like that.”

“Well, as a member of the newly formed super team,” said Weiss, tossing her hair. “I think we should get some rest.”

Blake eyed the bunkbeds. “Do you think the mattresses come off the beds?” she asked, looking at Weiss with a raised eyebrow.

Weiss grinned. “I like the way you think, Blake.” She turned to the others. “I propose we drag all our mattresses to the centre of the room and have a sleepover.” She cast a look at Ruby and flashed her a familiar smile. “Something else I’ve always wanted to do.”

“All of us? Together?” asked Oscar.

“It’ll be like a big slumber party,” said Yang, winking at Ruby.

Ruby smiled at Yang, her gaze sliding over to the others. “Do you think Dad would approve of the boys?” she asked, voice soft.

Yang paused, staring at her, a slow smile spreading on her face. She looked at the others and her expression turned soft. In a quiet voice, she said, “I know I do.”

“Come on!” said Nora. “We gotta get our stuff.” She, Ren, and Jaune turned and left the room.

“I need to supervise!” called Weiss, hurrying after them.

“Come on, Oscar, I’ll help you with yours,” said Yang, crossing the room and clapping him on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” said Oscar. He followed her out of the room.

That left Ruby and Blake. Ruby sighed, grateful for the silence after so much excitement and noise. She let herself relax, shoulders lowering, hands falling to her side, head hanging a bit. Everyone was right, she needed to accept the decisions she’d made and just go with them, for now.

Hearing her teams want to join up, especially after their arguing was… nice. No matter how much they bickered, everyone still cared about each other. They all still wanted to help one another. And the idea of having _one_ team, instead of being scared about multiple teams, was both a relief and another fear.

More people to be worried about, but they were all in it together. That was what mattered.

“Ruby?” Blake’s voice broke through her thoughts. Ruby looked up and stared at Blake, cocking her head to one side. “I… about what I said, earlier…”

“About the past?” asked Ruby. She furrowed her brow. Blake had been right about the past catching up with them, so why would she want to talk about it?

“No, about us following your lead,” said Blake. She crossed the room and stood in front of Ruby, hugging one of her own arms with the other. “I misspoke. We do follow your lead, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to us. You don’t have to shoulder the weight of the world on your own.” She reached up and touched Ruby’s arm. “You’re not alone, Ruby, and you’re not the only person fighting or making difficult decisions.”

Ruby nodded, unsure what else to say.

“And… I owe you an apology,” said Blake.

Ruby blinked. “What?”

Blake sighed and grimaced, looking away from Ruby. Her ears flattened against her hair. “Ever since I came back, I’ve been focused on making amends with Yang, but the truth is, I abandoned you too. I couldn’t chase after Weiss, but I could have stayed with you and Yang, and I haven’t been trying to make it up to you, as well.” She looked back at Ruby, her golden eyes glimmering and soft. “I’m so sorry.”

“Blake…”

“No, I just…” Blake shook her head, ears swivelling. She sighed. “You’re my friend, Ruby. We’re teammates but we’re also friends, and family, and you’re like the little sister I never had.” She squeezed Ruby’s arm. “You deserve better than how I’ve treated you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Ruby stumbled forward the two half steps and wrapped her arms around Blake, resting her forehead on Blake’s shoulder. Blake tensed for a second, then wound her arms tight around Ruby and rested her cheek on Ruby’s head.

“I don’t need to forgive you,” whispered Ruby. “I was never mad, Blake, just confused. And the longer I was on the road, the more I understood why you left. By the time Weiss and Yang showed up in Mistral, I just wanted the team back together.” She tilted her head and breathed deeply, relaxing against the smell of the body wash all of them had shared in Argus.

Honey and lemon.

“I love you,” mumbled Ruby.

Blake’s hands tightened against Ruby’s cape. “I love you too, Ruby,” she whispered back.

A cleared throat had both of them raising their heads. Yang stood in the doorway, a mattress under one arm. “Do you guys need a second?” she asked, rubbing the back of her neck with her other hand. “Don’t wanna interrupt anything emotional.”

Ruby wiped at her eyes and stepped back from Blake. “No, we’re good. Great, even.” She smiled at Blake, who smiled back. “Let’s get this slumber party set up.”

Together, everyone got the mattresses spread out on the floor, the sheets folded and draped on everything, and the blankets and pillows where they needed to be. Nora and Oscar raided the common room and found popcorn, Ren and Blake found movies on the Atlas network to watch on their Scrolls, and Weiss and Jaune hunted down their Atlas Academy issued pyjamas.

Within twenty minutes, they were all piled together, watching a movie on the holo projection from Ren’s Scroll, and, for the first time since Mistral, Ruby felt at ease.

There was a lot to do tomorrow, but for now, she had her team, her _singular_ team, and that was what mattered most.

“Nora! Did you fart?” asked Jaune.

“Augh, that’s _disgusting_ ,” cried Blake, throwing herself into Weiss’ arms to bury her face in Weiss’ shirt. “Save me.”

“Open a window, open a window,” shouted Yang.

Yeah, thought Ruby, laughing as she raced to the window to throw it open, she could handle anything with this team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are super appreciated and make my day! Thank you for reading!


	5. (With)Draw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter with multiple POVs! Something probably more common as we get deeper into the story. Lots of moving parts and all that.
> 
> Enjoy.

The Ace-Ops made their way out of the office, Winter in their midst, and headed out of the school. The silence was heavy, anxious, and none spoke as they parted in front of the school, bar the customary ‘goodbye’ from each member and Winter. It seemed, to Clover, that they were all planning on handling this alone. He wasn’t sure how good an idea that was. His own mind was in turmoil, confused and anxious and terrified.

Were they fighting a war they couldn’t win? And, if they were, did it matter? If they couldn’t win, then perhaps they could make the world easier to live in. Perhaps they could push her back, inform the masses, so the next generation, and the ones after that, could fight better against her, until some day when she finally fell for good.

He trusted General Ironwood with his life. The man had saved Clover, helped shape him into the man he was today. Gave him the opportunity to rise above tragedy.

Clover trusted that, whatever the general decided upon, come morning, it would be the right decision.

“Clover?” Clover paused at the voice. He turned and found Marrow standing not far from him, his head bowed, his tail drooping, and his arms wrapped around himself in a mock hug.

“Marrow,” said Clover. He shook off the thoughts that clung to him and refocused on the present. “Everything all right?”

Marrow sighed, his entire body seeming to sag with it. “I just… That was a lot, you know?” He looked up at Clover. His hair mostly hung in his face, obscuring his soft eyes. “And I can’t…” He sighed, again. “We don’t kill people, Clover. But Salem was a _person_.”

Clover’s chest tightened. _Oh._ That was something he hadn’t even considered. He’d been caught up on the idea that Salem couldn’t be destroyed.

He crossed the space between them and rested his hand on Marrow’s shoulder. “Was, Marrow, not is. Whatever she is now, it’s more Grimm than human. We kill Grimm all the time.”

Marrow frowned. “Still… I don’t…” He closed his eyes. “What do we do?”

Clover rolled it over in his mind. He couldn’t help but think of what Ruby had said, about Salem and Oz. About everything. He’d met Oz, once, when he was younger. A Vytal Festival at Atlas Academy during his time at the school had brought the headmaster to Atlas. He remembered how regal he – _they;_ and that was something else to adjust to – had been.

The elegant way they’d spoken. The sense of humour. The way Ozpin had been so respectful and friendly toward General Ironwood. It all stuck out in Clover’s mind. But, equally so, so did the distant way they’d held themself, and the feeling that Ozpin wasn’t all there.

“I don’t know,” admitted Clover. “But I have faith in General Ironwood. He’s never steered us wrong before. So long as we listen to him, we’ll be fine.”

Marrow nodded. “You’re right.” His frown deepened. “I still don’t understand how a person can lose themselves, like that. How could you become so _lost_ as to turn yourself into a Grimm?”

Clover sighed. “It seems, to me, that the people before us weren’t quite the same. Salem was an extreme, even by their different standards.” He frowned and tilted his head. “Beyond that, we don’t know how long she was alone. Loneliness can drive a person to do strange things, Marrow.”

Marrow scoffed. “Tell me about it,” he muttered.

An idea occurred to Clover. “Do you… want to spend the night at my place?” Marrow’s head came up and so did his eyebrows. Clover cleared his throat. That sounded _very_ inappropriate. Especially with his reputation. Oops. “I mean… we’re friends, aren’t we? And I don’t think everyone should be alone, tonight. We could talk about what’s going on, have a drink, maybe order in. I’ve been told my couch is very comfortable.”

This still sounded suggestive, but at least he was doing better.

“Friends?” echoed Marrow. His tail wagged behind him, slow and hesitant. “Yeah. I uh, I’d like that, Clover. Thanks.”

Clover turned and gestured for Marrow to follow him. “Come on. It’s not too far from here. We can walk. It’s a nice night, anyway.”

Marrow stepped up beside him and beamed at him. “Lead the way,” he said.

* * *

Sometime after midnight, Oscar awoke. He blinked a few times, squinting into the darkness. Weiss had an arm thrown over his stomach and her face was turned toward him. His head was mostly on Jaune’s stomach, and Weiss’ cheek was on Jaune’s hip.

He frowned, wondering why he’d woken up.

His bladder reminded him a moment later.

Grimacing, Oscar wiggled his way out of everyone, moved Weiss’ arm, and slipped out of the room. He was halfway down the hall when he saw Nora leaning against a wall, staring out one of the windows in a nook in the hallway.

He paused. “Nora?” His voice was low, barely there. She looked up, blinking a few times, like she hadn’t realized anyone could pass her.

“Oh, hey Oscar.” She sounded just as distant as she looked. “You okay?”

“Are you?” asked Oscar, his venture temporarily forgotten. He walked up to Nora and stood across from her, leaning back against the wall. It was cool in the hallway, like the heating grid had been turned down in the night. The moonlight shone through the window, casting Nora and the world around her into pale, white light. It made her look older, like someone who had been through… well, everything they’d been through, really.

Nora shrugged.

“Why are you awake?” asked Oscar. He hugged himself, the chill burrowing into his bones. He wished he’d grabbed his coat from the JNOR room. Or that there were sweaters with the AA clothing. Like a zip-up would be nice. Maybe there was. He hadn’t looked very hard.

Changing was weird.

Nora shrugged, again. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Oscar sighed, soft and a little frustrated. Nora usually wasn’t one to hide like this, so whatever was bothering her had to be big. But how did he fix that? How did he get her to open up?

He thought about earlier.

“You said we’re a team, right?” asked Oscar. He stared up at Nora, aware that every day shrunk the height difference between him and the shortest of his friends – Ruby, Weiss, and Nora.

“Yeah,” said Nora. She furrowed her brow at him.

“Don’t teammates tell each other what’s bothering them?” asked Oscar. “I mean, I’ve never been part of a team, before. But you guys were all arguing about Ruby doing that, earlier.” He frowned. “It seems like you’re doing it now, instead.”

Nora opened her mouth, closed it, and then smiled at him. “Smart _and_ cute,” said Nora, a little laugh in her voice. “Someday you’ll be beating off girls with a stick.”

Oscar made a face.

“Boys?” guessed Nora. Oscar flushed, ducking his head. He looked away from her. _That_ was something else he hadn’t told anyone about, on top of the other thing. In the midst of ‘Hey I have an ancient person in my head who isn’t actually a man’, he hadn’t gotten around to ‘Hey I haven’t always been a boy, and also I like boys’. Seemed like a lot to spring on people at once.

“Yeah,” mumbled Oscar. He rubbed his arms. “Far as I know.”

Nora grinned. “Cool.” She hesitated a moment, gnawing on her lower lip, then sighed. “And yeah, yeah we do.” She hugged herself and frowned. “Just… thinking about what we told Ironwood, and everything we saw, I guess.”

“Did you mean it?” asked Oscar, tilting his head. His face was hot, but he shook it off. There were other things to focus on other than Nora’s reaction. Sexuality wasn’t a big deal. He just hadn’t gotten around to telling anyone. “About defeating Salem?”

Nora nodded. “I’ve asked Ruby a couple times about that bit at the end, about the way Jinn phrased it. I mean, think about it.” Nora lifted one hand and waved her fingers around. “In all the fairy tales, the ancient magical being that grants you wishes or answers your questions only gives you gifts or answers _exactly_ what you ask for.” She shrugged. “It just… Jinn has to be where that comes from, right? I mean, we literally know one of the biggest fairy tales _ever._ ” She gestured to him. “The Noble Knight.”

Oscar swallowed. He didn’t know a lot of fairy tales, but he knew a few. The Girl in the Tower was the big one he’d looked up in Argus, but he hadn’t heard The Noble Knight before. He wondered which one that was.

“So, you think she answered exactly what Ozpin asked,” said Oscar.

“Yeah.” She huffed. “Like. What _precisely_ did Ozpin ask?”

Oscar hated to remember, because he’d been in that position, on his knees with tears streaming down his face, aware but not. Because Ozpin had completely taken over and he had been a passenger in his own body.

“ _How do I destroy Salem?”_ whispered Oscar, staring at the floor.

“Precisely!” said Nora, her voice echoing in the small space. “There’s two things there that would change her answer. Ozpin said “I” and “destroy”. I mean… you heard Ruby. She was so focused on the destroy part.” Nora’s words swarmed around Oscar and he swallowed. The words slipped into his ears, but his eyes were far away, staring down Jinn, then the team, then sitting against a tree, his back and face stinging, as Yang swore and the others snarled.

He didn’t know why they hadn’t abandoned him in the snow, back then. He still didn’t. Ozpin seemed to only cause problems, and it wasn’t like he was _friends_ with any of them.

But they wanted to be teammates. Maybe that was the first step? And Jaune seemed to like him. And Nora thought he was cute.

Maybe that was a good sign?

He didn’t know. He’d never really had friends before.

His mind flickered, images flashing forward. Another lifetime, sitting in front of a fire. A man with soft eyes and a gentle smile sat next to him – _them_ – on a small couch. They were curled together, arms around one another, drinking hot chocolate.

_“I think this might be what happiness is,” murmured the man._

_“Perhaps,” they agreed, but they saw, in their mind, a woman turned white with the sins of her shortcomings, four little girls who called out for them both. A gentle laugh._

_“What do we do now?”_

_“Whatever we want.”_

Oscar blinked back tears as they sprung to his eyes. They were growing more frequent, those visions. Was it a sign of a merge? Was the merge even real? In the visions, they hadn’t _seemed_ real. He didn’t know what to think, anymore.

He was so tired.

He still had to pee.

Nora was still talking.

“But I wanna focus on the ‘I’ part,” she was saying. “Like, we’re not Ozpin.” A pause. “I mean, you sort of are, but not really, so maybe _you_ couldn’t stab Salem and have it work.” Oscar grimaced and hugged himself as tight as he could. “But the rest of us, you know? We have a whole army to work with, now, and the Ace-Ops seem _really cool_. So I think we could do it.”

A pause, then, “Hey, are you okay?”

Oscar blinked and looked up. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, it’s just a lot, you know?” He flashed Nora a sheepish smile and she gave a little one back. “Sorry. Tired.”

Nora gave an exaggerated yawn and stretched her arms above her head. “I feel that. Hey, what are you doing up, anyway?”

“Oh.” Oscar blushed. “I uh, I had to pee.”

Nora giggled. “I’ll let you go do that, then. I’m gonna head back to bed. Maybe I can squeeze in next to Yang. She gives the best hugs.” Nora pushed off the wall and started toward the dorms. “Night, Oscar. Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Nora.” Oscar waited until Nora was out of sight before he allowed himself to fully sag against the wall. He took a moment to breathe, his face in his hands, then pushed off the wall and headed for the bathrooms.

Tomorrow, things would make more sense.

…No, they wouldn’t. But at least, maybe, _maybe_ , he could get some sleep before then. Even if his dreams and nightmares had twisted together to showcase memories of lifetimes he’d never lived, and the loss of people he’d never loved, but also always had.

* * *

James let himself and Qrow into his penthouse apartment and stepped aside so Qrow could step in. He was stumbling, one hand on his head and another around his stomach. James frowned, wrinkling his brow as he watched Qrow kick off his shoes and stumble into the living space, dropping face first onto the sectional couch with a groan.

With a deepening frown, James unlaced his boots and took them off, his greatcoat and his holsters followed. He followed Qrow into the living space and sat down on the side of the couch near Qrow’s head. Qrow groaned, tilting his head to one side to stare out into the rest of the space, or maybe just to breathe.

“May I ask?” James’ voice was low. He reached out and laid a gloved hand upon Qrow’s head, slowly stroking it through his hair.

“I quit drinking,” murmured Qrow.

James’ eyebrows shot up. That wasn’t what he expected, of all things. A bug, maybe. Going too long without drinking, most definitely. But quitting? Going sober?

“For good?” asked James. Qrow nodded. “How long ago?”

Qrow cursed under his breath, too low for James to make out, before he spoke. “About ten hours ago, give or take.”

James let out a quiet whistle. _Damn._ That meant he was only starting withdrawal. Even with Qrow’s aura, withdrawal from such heavy, constant drinking was going to be hell. He’d be down for a week, at the least, and that was assuming he didn’t get worse before he got better. Though, he did have something that could help. He’d been preparing for this day, in case Qrow ever ended up in this situation, in Atlas. Some would call him anal, but right now, James was being proven right.

“What do you need?” asked James. He had his own ideas, but he didn’t want to overstep. Qrow deserved to keep his autonomy, especially through what would probably be the most humiliating week of his life.

“I have no idea.” Qrow let out a quiet groan. “I know I shouldn’t do this cold turkey, but if I don’t, I’ll never stop, James.” He closed his eyes and James kept stroking his hair, a little gentler this time.

“It’s okay,” said James. “There are medications and tools to help if you need to do it all at once. I can even call a doctor or a nurse, to keep an eye on you while I work, if that wouldn’t be too humiliating for you.”

Qrow hummed, but it sounded more defeated than anything else. “I’ll get back to you.”

“What’s important, for tonight, is keeping you hydrated,” said James. “As well as ensuring you don’t go into convulsions. I might have something for that.”

Qrow hummed again. “By all means.”

Lifting his hand from Qrow’s head, James got to his feet and moved through the kitchen, turning into the closed off hallway that led to the master suite. In the bathroom, he found the bottle he was looking for. Medication meant for alcohol withdrawal, based on Qrow’s medical check-up last time he’d been in Atlas. A few years in the past, yes, but certainly it would bring him no harm, and it was much better than nothing.

He moved back into the living space and sat down on the sectional, at Qrow’s head.

“Here,” he said, holding out the bottle. “I had these found for you, a while ago. Over the counter, but it should help with the worst of the symptoms.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Qrow pushed himself upright and groaned. His face was already red, his eyes bloodshot and his hair seemed limper than it had, only moments before. James frowned. How had he not noticed the condition that Qrow was in, until now? Had he been so consumed by his own fears? The answer was yes, and he knew that.

Qrow took the bottle from him, now upright, and squinted at the label. With a shrug, he opened it, shook out two, and swallowed them dry.

“Thanks, Jim,” said Qrow. He flopped back on the couch and leaned his head over the back of it, groaning again. James took the bottle from him and set it on the coffee table.

“Of course,” said James. “Do you need anything else?”

Qrow waved him off, eyes closed. “I’m good. But I got a question.”

James raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Doesn’t being General of Atlas mean you get a big fancy estate, or something?” asked Qrow. He cracked open one eye and tilted his head to look at James.

James opened his mouth, closed it, and felt his face heat. Of all people, Qrow would understand his main reasoning for not wanting to live in the estate, but, right now, he would prefer to only explain the one that actually worked for the Council and the people around him.

“Actually, since the Fall of Beacon, I’ve had it temporarily transformed into a boarding house,” said James. He lifted one hand and rubbed the back of his neck. Usually, at home, he removed his gloves, but it felt almost strange to do so in front of Qrow, right now, for no reason he could put to words. “For those who were displaced by the destruction.”

“Sounds about right,” said Qrow, drily. He raised an eyebrow. “So, what about before that? This place isn’t exactly new.” He lifted one hand and weakly gestured to the walls, where a few square pictures littered the expanse of white.

James flushed deeper. “I…” He sighed. “I didn’t like the estate. Even when I was only General, I only went there when I had to. This,” he gestured around them, “was one of the options presented to me when I became Headmaster of Atlas Academy. I took it.”

“Suppose that keeps you off the Council’s shit list,” said Qrow, snorting.

James shrugged. “For the moment, at least.” It was true. The Council had been curious when James hadn’t taken the estate, and it had been a strange, infrequent sore point in their meetings. As if they thought James thought himself too good for the estate, for the title.

It was completely the opposite, in fact.

Qrow groaned and curled into himself, his face suddenly pale. “Shit,” he breathed.

“Qrow…”

“The hell’s your bathroom?” muttered Qrow.

James leapt to his feet and held out his hand. “Come on.”

Qrow followed him, the two hurrying to his master bathroom, whereupon Qrow stumbled, fell to his knees, and promptly vomited into the toilet.

James stood in the doorway, watching Qrow with his lips pressed together in a thin line. When he was certain that Qrow wouldn’t fall over and choke on his own vomit, he slipped out of the room and went to the kitchen, pouring Qrow a glass of water.

Back in the bathroom, James leaned in the doorway again, watching Qrow as the other man clung to the toilet bowl and shivered. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out across his skin. With a quiet sigh, James sent the glass down on the vanity and crouched down to rub Qrow’s back.

“That was rather instantaneous,” said James, his voice quiet.

Qrow groaned. “You’re telling me.” He retched again, shuddered, and reached up to flush the toilet. James didn’t flinch. He’d dealt with worse than vomit, in the past, and his own recovery after his accident had been disgusting, both inside and out.

“Do you need anything?” asked James, still rubbing his hand up and down Qrow’s back. Qrow leaned into his touch, his eyes closing. He bowed his head and let out a soft sigh.

“Stay with me?” His words were barely above a mumble.

James nodded, though Qrow couldn’t see it. “Of course, Qrow. As long as you need.” He settled on the floor next to Qrow, ensuring the water glass was within reach. It’d be a long night, but he wouldn’t let Qrow go through it alone.

James suspected that Qrow had spent far too much time alone, over the last year and a half.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are deeply appreciated and loved. Thank you for reading!


	6. Morning Clarity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally made it to the next day! Damn set-up.
> 
> Shoutout to YokaiLuna for the idea for the team name change. Thanks friend!

In the morning, James checked on Qrow in the guest room, who was shivering under the blankets. The bucket next to his bed was unfortunately heavy, and James took the time to rinse and clean it, grimacing slightly as he went. Not his idea of a great morning, but he couldn’t fault Qrow for it. He was trying.

When he returned to the bedroom, hands washed, bucket cleaned, a fresh glass of water with him, Qrow was blinking awake.

“How’re you feeling?” asked James. He sat down on the edge of the bed, near Qrow’s feet, and gently rubbed one of his legs.

Qrow groaned. “Like shit.” He squinted. “And nothing’ll focus. S’all wobbly and fuzzy.” The slur of his words concerned James.

“Think you can keep down the medicine?” asked James.

Qrow nodded. He pushed himself upright and James helped him take the medicine. Qrow drank half the water in one sip before setting it down. He grimaced.

“Thanks,” said Qrow, voice rough.

James rubbed his back, slow and steady. “I need to go into the office to speak with the kids. There’s a lot on my end they still don’t know, and I want to talk more about their concerns. I’ve got a nurse on call that I can have come in and check on you, or I can send someone you know.”

Qrow sighed. “Depends on who knows about our arrangement, I guess.” He gestured to the room, which was decidedly not James’. His words were clearer, now, as if the medicine was already helping. “You know, for this.”

James hadn’t thought about that, which was strange for him. He usually had everything handled, but Qrow arriving in Atlas had changed so much of what was going on, and the news the children had brought to him had shaken everything he’d been planning.

“I’ll call someone in who knows,” said James. “And who can help. I won’t leave you alone all day.”

Qrow hummed. “Appreciate that.” He leaned into James’ touch and closed his eyes. “This is gonna suck, Jim.”

“It’ll be worth it,” said James, softly, “when you come out the other side, sober.”

Another hum. He shuffled and slumped against James, head on James’ shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t make it easier, though.”

James shifted to wrap his arm around Qrow’s shoulders and rubbed his shoulder, resting his cheek atop Qrow’s head.

“I know,” said James, keeping his voice low. In the night, he’d gone through the apartment and dumped all his own alcohol, taking the glass to the recycling bins on the main floor. He’d never drunk enough to get sick when he stopped, even if he did lean on it too much, from time to time, so he suspected he’d be fine, stopping as well. Not that he was going to tell Qrow, right now. Qrow had enough going on without feeling guilty about James stopping drinking because of him.

James just wanted Qrow to feel comfortable and safe. If stopping drinking did that, that was fine by him. Though, he should probably talk to Qrow about that, once Qrow felt better.

“I’ll have my Scroll on me, and your ring is unique, so I’ll know if you call,” said James. He’d replaced Qrow’s Scroll the night before, upon learning it was damaged. The joys of keeping extras in his apartment. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate, Qrow. I can come home if you need me.”

Qrow nodded. He sagged against James as if he was falling asleep again, which was probably the case. James suspected Qrow hadn’t slept well, last night. He’d been half-tempted to sleep next to Qrow, to keep an eye on him. Detox could be deadly, in some cases, and incredibly dangerous, in others. He suspected Qrow would fall somewhere in the dangerous category, even if he was doing his best to hide it from everyone.

Except he wasn’t really trying to hide it from James. Even after over a year apart, Qrow still didn’t bother to put on a show for James. He appreciated that. Their friendship, strange as it was, had always meant a lot to James. Even when the rest of the world didn’t make sense, Qrow did. Strange and surly as he could be.

“I need to get to work,” said James.

Qrow let out a quiet noise that might have been a whine or a groan. “Do you have to?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. There was a weight to those words that had James hesitating, wondering if he _did_ have to go in, if he couldn’t just let Winter and Clover handle it all. But that wasn’t fair to the kids, nor to his promise of explaining more this morning.

Brothers, why were things so difficult?

“I do,” said James, his right hand gently stroking up and down Qrow’s shoulder. “I’ll call later, to check in, and come back at lunch, if I can. But I promised your nieces I’d answer their questions about Atlas and my plans, today. They deserve that promise, Qrow.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry.”

Qrow sighed. “I know. I’m being selfish.”

“You’re allowed,” replied James.

Qrow huffed. “Yeah, whatever.”

James frowned at Qrow’s words, but he didn’t have the energy to argue them. If he couldn’t be selfish, how could he argue that Qrow could be? In this war, there were so many things everyone lost. Selfishness was one of the first to go. James hadn’t been allowed to selfish since the day he’d taken his first title, as General, and he wouldn’t be allowed to be selfish until the day he died.

“Time to go?” asked Qrow, after a minute of silence.

James recognized the words for what they were. Qrow wanted some time to be on his own.

“Unfortunately,” said James. Slowly, he peeled himself from Qrow and stood, helping Qrow lay down. He drew the blankets up around Qrow and soothed a hand down the side of Qrow’s face, letting out a soft sigh when Qrow leaned into the cold of his uncovered, metal fingers.

“Sleep well, Qrow, I’ll talk to you later,” whispered James. With that, he turned and left the room, and finished getting ready for work.

There were going to be a lot of questions, this morning. James needed to be prepared to handle them.

* * *

The second trip up the elevator to General Ironwood’s office wasn’t near as bad as the first, even if the group was missing a member. Ruby had texted Uncle Qrow, earlier, only to remember that his Scroll was broken, and he couldn’t text her back. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he was still sober.

That last part made her feel guilty. It had only been one day and she was already doubting him. Uncle Qrow deserved better. He was trying. Wasn’t that all anyone could ask?

They were all _trying._

With their clothes washed by Atlas Academy staff, the group smelled and looked a lot better than they had, the night before. Blake had dug out a zip-up sweater from the closet and wore it, half-zipped, on top of her clothes. Without her jacket, she’d looked small, vulnerable. Now she looked like a student on the way back from exercising.

“What do you think he wants to talk about?” asked Jaune. He stood to Ruby’s left, while Weiss stood to her right. She was rigid, her jaw working visibly. Her fingers gripped her covered arms so tightly that her knuckles had turned white, then red, then white again.

Ruby wondered how long it would take for the Schnee family to know that Weiss was back in Atlas. Would her father come for her? He seemed to leave Winter alone, but Winter was disowned. Maybe it was different, because Winter had never really left. Not the same way, at least. Not in a way that would make Jacques Schnee a laughingstock.

Ruby liked the way Weiss had left better.

“I have no idea,” said Ruby. “I have questions I want to ask him, and…” She pressed her lips together. After everything that had happened last night, she wanted to believe she could open up more, speak more of her thoughts, but a huge part of her still feared what would happen. Would they doubt her? Or would they have better ideas? Would Ruby learn she’d been wrong all along? And, if she did, who would lead them? She’d follow any of them, if they knew the answer.

Maybe that was what scared her most. The idea that she knew nothing. That they followed her just because they didn’t want to lead.

Ruby shook the thoughts off as the elevator opened. She had a plan. She was going to ask General Ironwood three questions: first, where was the relic of creation; second, where was the Winter maiden; third, could she have the lamp back. That was her current plan. Everything else would come after.

As the group moved up the stairs to the office, the door swung open, revealing Penny and Winter. Ruby felt her knees go weak at the sight of Penny. Something else to deal with later. She didn’t have time to deal with her feelings. And Penny probably didn’t feel the same way. Probably. Definitely. Penny was a person. A real person. She had feelings, and a soul, and a heart. She was also a really, really terrible liar.

If she liked Ruby, Ruby would know.

It was that simple.

That was what she kept telling herself, anyway.

The Ace-Ops were in the office, off to the side. Ruby saw Clover talking to the faunus. She still didn’t know his name. That was strange to her, too. Not knowing the names of all the people she was working with. Around. For? Not for. Never for.

She refused to let it be “for”.

“Good morning,” said General Ironwood from where he stood behind his desk. He was staring out the window. He turned as they came in and gave them a little smile. “It’s a nice day, don’t you think?”

It was. Sunny with some clouds, and the weather report said it wasn’t as cold as usual. Weiss said it was downright pleasant out. Ruby thought it was still colder than it had any right to be. At least the heating grid was around. That kept everyone from freezing.

“Good morning, General,” said Ruby. She looked around, double checking, but couldn’t find Qrow anywhere. “Where’s Uncle Qrow?” she asked. Her heart clenched. “Is he okay? Did something happen?”

General Ironwood held up his hands in a sort of surrender. “He’s fine, Miss Rose. He’s currently going through detox, which is hard on the body. I’ve got him set up as best I can, and I’ll be sending someone to check on him soon.” His gaze darted to the Ace-Ops. Ruby wondered which one he’d send. “I also replaced his Scroll with a spare I had in my apartment. If you text him, he’ll text you back as soon as he can.”

Ruby let herself relax. Half a dozen questions and fears answered at once. Maybe the General _did_ have a good grasp of what he was doing. It felt like it, anyway. She hadn’t even thought to ask him to replace Qrow’s Scroll.

“Okay, good,” said Ruby. She reached up and touched the back of her neck, wincing a little. “I kinda… didn’t realize how bad detoxing was.”

Weiss gave a little snort. “It’s been one day, Ruby. It’s going to get a _lot_ worse, before it gets better.” She stared at the floor, her expression dark. “Believe me, I’ve seen it before.” She grimaced. “It takes a strong person to give up drinking.” Her grimace deepened until it etched clear, angry lines into her face. “Stronger than I’ve met,” she mumbled.

Ruby touched her on the shoulder and offered her a little smile. Weiss lifted her gaze but didn’t return it.

“I promise you that we’re doing everything we can for him,” said General Ironwood. He cleared his throat. “I also understand you probably have a lot of questions for me.”

“Just a few,” said Jaune, stepping out from behind Ruby. “Uh, first of all, do you… know how we got here?”

Not where Ruby was going to start, but she wasn’t about to complain on not taking the lead for once. She stood back a little and let Jaune talk.

“A stolen airship,” said General Ironwood with a chuckle. “Reminds me of your father, Miss Rose. He’s stolen…” He hesitated and hummed. “Four? Five? I’ve lost count.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows.

Yang spoke. “Wait… Dad stole airships?” She stepped up next to Jaune. “You’ve met our Dad, right? Awkward, blond, full of dad jokes and anxiety? Easily the softest dog-turned-human in all of Remnant?” She folded her arms. “I can’t see him stealing airships.”

General Ironwood smiled. “In his heyday, your father was quite a menace, Miss Xiao Long, not unlike all of you. I promise you, your father, and Team STRQ, was every bit as chaotic and… rule abiding,” he said those two words with a dryness that had Ruby wincing, “as all of you.”

“You stole an _airship?_ ” Winter’s voice rang clear through the office as she stepped forward. Ruby was too focused on General Ironwood’s words, though. General Ironwood hadn’t just known Uncle Qrow for years, he’d known all of Team STRQ. Did that mean he had answers about what had happened? Could he answer the questions Ruby had that Uncle Qrow and Dad refused to answer?

Winter stalked forward half a dozen steps and Weiss pushed through everyone and hurried forward, meeting Winter in the centre of the room and hugging her tightly.

“I—” Winter froze as Weiss’ arms came around her. Ruby watched as Winter slowly relaxed and hugged Weiss back, her hands on her shoulders.

“I missed you,” said Weiss, her voice soft. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night. I’m sorry I ran. But I needed to.” She pulled back. “I wish I could have told you.”

Winter stared at her; her brow furrowed. Bit by bit, her expression softened until she seemed, to Ruby, like anyone else in the room.

Winter cleared her throat. “You did what you had to do,” she said. She folded her arms behind her back and lifted her chin. “I understand that better than anyone. We all must make our own way.”

Weiss smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad you understand.” She looked around at everyone and blushed, scooting back into the group. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem, Miss Schnee,” said General Ironwood, his voice gentle. “What other questions would you like to ask me?”

Ruby frowned. Did she want to start now? Or later? Did she want to wait for other things?

Once more, the choice was taken from her.

“Are we in trouble?” asked Blake.

“What do you want from us?” asked Yang.

Ruby waited, holding her breath, her gaze darting between her team and General Ironwood.

“No, you’re not in trouble,” said General Ironwood. “Frankly, everything you did was most likely out of necessity.” His eyes twinkled a bit, reminding Ruby of Uncle Qrow when he got mischievous. Usually when he wanted to sneak candy into movie theatres. “Plus, I think they needed the shake up in Argus. Brothers know that Cordovin is…” He made a face, wrinkling his nose. “Not the _best_ Atlas has to offer.”

“Wait,” said Yang, a tease in her voice. “Did you send Cordovin to Argus to get her away from you?”

General Ironwood broke into a smile, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Well…” He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yes, I did. I was sick of her posturing and brown-nosing. I thought Argus would calm her down, being in a more… open part of Remnant.”

Nora snorted. “Yeah, that didn’t work. She attacked us with a giant mech!”

General Ironwood’s eyebrows shot up. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suspect I’ll be getting _that_ report in the near future.” He looked back to them. “Though, you seem to have made it out in one piece.”

“We’re good at the whole ‘anarchy’ thing,” said Nora, grinning. “Blake especially.”

Blake blushed, her ears swivelling backward. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” she mumbled.

Yang bumped shoulders with her. “I think it’s a _great_ thing.” Blake smiled at her and Yang smiled in return.

“I’m inclined to agree,” said General Ironwood. “And to answer your other question, that depends on you, Miss Xiao Long. You’re in Atlas now, and I would deeply appreciate your help. The war is only beginning, and you’ve all brought me a great deal of information that I still need to work through.”

Ruby watched his facial expressions. The downward furrow of his brow, the pursing of his lips, the slight twitch in his jaw. He was nervous. Scared.

Would he admit to it?

“I’m not quite sure on long term plans, at the moment, but I stand by what I said last night. Restoring communication across Remnant is the utmost priority. A united front is our best bet.” He let out a quiet sigh. “However, I’m not sure what to do, beyond that. Speaking with all of you, gathering information, studying it, and forming a new plan of attack is my next priority. Of course, that depends on all of you, as I said.”

“So… you’re not going to force us to do anything?” asked Jaune, rubbing the back of his neck.

General Ironwood sat in his chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and lacing his fingers together near his mouth. “I have no interest in forcing any of you to do anything. If you wish to attend classes here, you are welcome to. If you wish to leave, by all means, I will personally ensure your ship.”

“But you want us to stay,” said Yang. She folded her arms across her chest.

“What I want is irrelevant,” said General Ironwood. “You are all fine, level-headed young people with an immense weight upon your shoulders. If you believe you can tackle this war better without Atlas, without myself, then please, do so.” His gaze swung toward Ruby, meeting her silver eyes with his own blue ones. She saw the fear, there, the anxiety, the weight he held on himself, as well.

Ruby looked over her shoulder at all her friends and teammates. One by one, they met her gaze, and she felt the words behind those looks.

Her decision.

They’d follow.

No matter what she chose, they’d follow.

Ruby turned her gaze back to General Ironwood. “I’ve got one question before I answer,” said Ruby. “And then I have a bunch more, after.”

“Of course,” said General Ironwood.

“Are you scared, General Ironwood?” asked Ruby. The words hung in the air for a moment, the air heavy with the anticipation. Ruby felt the gaze of every person in the room on her, from her teammates, to the Ace Ops, to Winter and Penny.

General Ironwood cracked a small, sad smile. “Terrified,” he said. “I have no idea what to do, I’m running blind, and I have a kingdom to protect while I try and protect the world at large.” He sighed. “Yes, Miss Rose, I am scared. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

Ruby let out a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing. It shouldn’t have made her feel better, to know that the probably most powerful man in Remnant was just as scared and confused as all of them, but it did. It brought General Ironwood down from scary military man with too much power to a regular person, one who had doubts and fears and was open to negotiation.

“How can we help?” asked Ruby.

General Ironwood’s smile turned warm. “Thank you, Miss Rose.”

“And call me Ruby,” said Ruby, making a face. “Or try, at least. We’re not fancy people. You can call us by first name.” She put her hands on her hips. “Especially if we’re going to be working together. You call everyone else you work with by first name.”

General Ironwood gave a small chuckle. “Very well, Ruby. I’ll try my best.” He gestured to the side of the room. “I suppose I should introduce you to the rest of my inner circle then, since you’ll be working with them.”

Ruby rubbed the back of her neck and gave a little laugh. “Yeah, it’d be cool to know them beyond, you know, when they arrested us.”

General Ironwood gave a grimace. “I’m still sorry about that.”

Ruby shrugged. “Eh. Not your fault. So, who are they?” She turned to the Ace Ops and cocked her head at them.

“Of course. These are my Ace Operatives,” said General Ironwood, gesturing to them. “Clover, if you would?” He nodded to Clover, who stepped off the wall and gave General Ironwood a thumb’s up.

“I’m Clover Ebi, captain of the Ace Ops,” said Clover, gesturing to himself. “These are my teammates: Elm Ederne, our heavy,” the big, buff woman nodded, “Vine Zeki, our analyst,” the tall, pale man nodded, “Harriet Bree, our close-range fighter and scout,” the short, vibrant woman gave a mock salute, “and Marrow Amin, our mid-range fighter and crowd controller.” The faunus man gave a little wave, smiling at them. His tail wagged behind him. “We’re honoured to have you with us. You’ve all been working incredibly hard and we’re glad to help in any way we can.”

Ruby stared at the five. So _these_ were the Ace Ops. In Mantle, on the ground, they’d looked larger than life. Now, Ruby saw that Harriet was about her height, if not a little shorter. Sure, Vine and Elm were _tall_ , but they were all regular sized people, now. They all looked nice and normal. It was kind of hard to believe they were the best of the best.

But then, she guessed the best didn’t need to broadcast that they were the best. They just knew, and so did everyone around them who saw them.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Ruby. “I’m Ruby Rose, leader of our newly joined team.” She gestured to all of them. “The eight of us decided we should be one team. We decided to call ourselves—”

“Rainbow.” General Ironwood’s voice cut through her at her hesitation. Ruby blinked. What? “That is your name, isn’t it?” He lifted his hands and counted off the letters on his fingers. “R-R-A-Y-N-B-O-W. Rainbow.”

Ruby blinked a few times. She hadn’t even considered that. They’d just smushed their names together last night.

“Um…”

“Oh, I get it!” said Nora. “Ruby, Ren, Arc for Jaune, Yang, me, Blake, Oscar, and Weiss!” She bounced a bit in place. “I love that so much more, actually.”

The others all nodded in agreement. Yang looked to Ruby.

“It’s up to you,” said Yang, shrugging.

Ruby smiled. “RRAYNBOW,” she echoed, softly. “Yeah. RRAYNBOW it is. Thank you, General Ironwood.” She nodded to him and he nodded back, a little smile on his face.

“How’d you do that so fast?” asked Nora.

General Ironwood raised an eyebrow. “With respect, Miss Valkyrie, I _am_ a headmaster at a hunting academy. Creating team names as quickly as possible is part of my job.”

“Ooooh,” said Nora, nodding. She stroked her chin with her thumb and forefinger. “I see, I see.” She gave him a hard look. “And you’re supposed to call me Nora.”

“Nora,” said General Ironwood. “Of course.”

There was a momentary lull and, Ruby managed to brace herself enough to take advantage of it.

“I had a few questions,” said Ruby, finally stepping forward.

General Ironwood nodded and gestured for her to speak. “By all means, Miss—Ruby, please.”

“First, I want to know where the relic for Atlas is,” said Ruby. “Oscar told us that it’s the creation relic.” She looked to Oscar, who nodded. “I assume you have it somewhere.”

General Ironwood nodded again. “The Staff of Creation is safe within its vault. While we have access to the area it is stored, the exact container is sealed, so only the Winter Maiden can access it.”

“What about the Winter Maiden?” asked Ruby. At least the relic was safe. “Is she okay?”

“She’s secure and in stable condition,” said Winter.

Yang stepped forward. “Stable condition?” she echoed, furrowing her brow.

“She’s an elderly woman at the end of her life,” said General Ironwood. “We’re doing our best to keep her both comfortable and safe for the remainder of her life.”

“What about the power?” Everyone started at Ren’s voice. He stepped forward, brow furrowed. “What are you going to do when she passes?”

“Ren…” Nora’s voice was soft.

Ren looked at Nora, then back at General Ironwood. “If she’s at the end of her life, I presume you have a plan. We’ve heard, from Jaune, what happened in the vault in Beacon.” Ren’s hands clenched at his sides. Jaune rested a hand on his shoulder, staring at the floor. “None of us want that to happen again.”

“I promise you, all of you, that our plan is to allow Fria to pass on naturally and gently guide her power into the next maiden,” said General Ironwood.

“What if you run out of time?” asked Jaune. His voice wobbled and Ruby hugged herself. She hadn’t been in the vault, but she remembered the story Jaune had told. She remembered all the nights he’d woken up screaming Pyrrha’s name, tears streaming down his face.

“Then yes, we do have access to the same machine we wanted to use in Vale,” said General Ironwood. His voice was gentle as he spoke. “But I promise you, Mr. Arc, we will be much safer if it comes to that, and we will not allow what happened to Miss Nikos to happen again.” His gaze was soft and it flickered down to his desk. “I will _never_ allow what happened at Beacon to happen again.”

Jaune’s gaze met Ruby’s and she narrowed her eyes, slightly, in question. She trusted General Ironwood’s words, but she worried what they meant. Desperate men made mistakes, Dad and Uncle Qrow had always said that, and Uncle Qrow had proven it a few times.

What would General Ironwood do, if things got that desperate?

“I had one last question. About the lamp.” Ruby’s words rang clear and strong in the room. General Ironwood gave a small smile and opened his desk, pulling out the shrunken lamp. It grew to its full size in his hand.

“Yes, I suspect you’ll be wanting this back,” said General Ironwood. He stood and circled his desk, holding it out to Ruby. She held her breath as she took it from him, letting it shrink back to its travel size. “I didn’t use the last question, if you wanted to ask.” His voice was quiet, but still audible throughout the office. “I believe that’s up to you and your team.”

She nodded and hooked it onto her belt. “Thank you, General Ironwood. Why aren’t you putting it with the other one?”

“As much as I might want to, I don’t believe it to be the right choice,” said General Ironwood. “You have my trust, Ruby. You told me everything, and I wanted you to know, tangibly, that I have put all my faith in your words.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Perhaps more than you know. The lamp is yours. I won’t take it from you.”

Ruby let out a slow breath, feeling her body relax from tension she hadn’t realized she held. “Thank you, General Ironwood.” She rested her hand on it and took a moment to relish in the soft power that emanated from the blue centre of the lamp. She wondered if Jinn was watching, listening, to everything they said.

She wondered what Jinn thought of it all.

It was too bad she couldn’t ask without wasting the last question. Jinn seemed like she had feelings, thoughts, of her own, especially after Ruby had frozen time with her power, back in Argus. She wanted to sit down with her, see what she felt about the world, about her task, about her existence.

The rules were too strict for Ruby to make friends with Jinn.

“I’ve got a question,” said Yang, waving her hand around shoulder height. “Can we have our weapons back?”

General Ironwood cleared his throat and moved back behind his desk. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you all about that. You’ve agreed to work in Atlas for now, yes?”

“Yes,” said Ruby, nodding. She looked around at all the others, who were nodding. “We want to help however we can.”

General Ironwood smiled. “Excellent. As you’ll be working in Solitas, you’ll need to upgrade your arsenal,” said General Ironwood. He tapped a button on his desk, bringing up their fight from Mantle, with focus on Blake’s broken weapon. She winced, ducking her head and flattening her ears. “Your weapons have been damaged from being on the road for so long. You have full access to everything you’ll need while here. Dr. Polendina will personally assist in upgrading weapons, and if you put in requests for clothing upgrades and changes, those can be done in the same time frame.”

Ruby couldn’t help the thrill that went through her. Weapon upgrades? Ooh, those sounded like so much fun. She’d had ideas on how to upgrade Crescent Rose for _months_ , but they’d only had time, and lien, to upgrade Jaune on the road. Jaune had been the important upgrade, after all, what with everything that had happened.

“When do we start?” asked Ruby, bouncing up and down.

“Dr. Polendina is expecting you as soon as this meeting is over. So, if we’re all done, you’ll be heading there.”

Ruby turned her focus to her team and looked over all of them. None of them seemed to have any questions, and everyone seemed, if not at ease, then at least on the same page she was.

She turned back toward General Ironwood. “I think we’re ready,” she said.

“Excellent,” said General Ironwood. He turned his gaze to Penny and Ruby swallowed. Penny had been silent this entire time, oddly, but Ruby wasn’t about to complain. It was easier. “Penny? Why don’t you take them to his lab?”

“Okie dokie,” said Penny, saluting General Ironwood. “Come on, let’s go.”

She walked past them, arms swinging in an exaggerated march, and headed out the door. Taking a deep breath, Ruby turned and followed after, her team all around her.

It was time to slide into their new roles as Atlas hunters. Despite everything, Ruby was excited. It was nice to have a goal, a focus, and support all around her.

She’d missed the stability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are super appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	7. Extensions of Ourselves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kids, Clover, and discussions.
> 
> There's some pretty heavy focus on withdrawal in this chapter.

Dr. Polendina’s lab was a thing of brilliance. Ruby found herself staring, eyes wide and mouth fallen open as she and the others passed by a handful of glass-walled rooms before coming to rest in a room about the size of General Ironwood’s office. This whole section of Atlas Academy had a different feel to it than the rest of the school. Where the rest of the school left Ruby feeling strange and out of place, like she was too dirty, too rough, too low brow to grace its floors, Dr. Polendina’s labs had a feel of warmth and _home_ to them.

It was in a place like this, albeit much less advanced and fancy, that Ruby had forged Crescent Rose and begun her journey as a huntress.

It felt… _right_ to be back in a place like this.

Dr. Polendina’s office in Atlas didn’t look at all like his place in Mantle. It was cleaner, the lines crisper, the books a little less worn, the trinkets a little less personal. And there was glass everywhere. The desk, the screens, all of it was holos and glass, all meant for Scrolls to hook up to.

Penny skipped up to Dr. Polendina – her _father_ , which Ruby still couldn’t get over, Gods – and leaned over to hug him.

“Father!” she said, cheerfully. “Mr. Ironwood said we’re doing weapon upgrades today. Is that right?”

Dr. Polendina chuckled and patted her on the back, “Yes, my dear girl, it is. Atlas weaponry is something special, and only _one_ of these young hunters is from our kingdom.” He turned his attention to the group of eight and smiled at them. Oscar hung back, fiddling with his gloves. Ruby wondered if he’d want to upgrade Ozpin’s cane, or if he’d want a new weapon, entirely.

Or if he was even going to be a hunter in Atlas. He was a kid – not even fifteen yet, like Ruby had been when all this started – and she didn’t think General Ironwood would want to send a kid into war. But did him having Ozpin in his head change things? Did Oscar even really have a choice, all things considered? She wanted him to have a choice. But…

Ruby didn’t know. Mostly, she was just confused and worried, and being so close to Penny – beautiful, sweet, brilliant Penny – wasn’t helping. Ruby still didn’t know what she was supposed to do around Penny. She was torn between wanting to cling to her and never let her go, and push her away and run in the other direction. Which one was better? Which one wouldn’t backfire?

Neither seemed like a good choice. But she couldn’t think of any others. So, instead, she ignored it all and stuffed it down, trying to press it back so that it didn’t cling to every aspect of her being.

“Let me get your weapons out and we can talk about the upgrades,” said Dr. Polendina. His chair walked over to a row of metal suitcases and he opened them, placing the weapons on the long, glass table on one side of the room. “Now, I’ve seen footage of your fight in Mantle, as well as your fight in the Vytal Festival Tournament. I have a few suggestions, but I’d like to hear what you think.”

He turned back toward them, looking over them all. Ruby looked around at her teammates, as well, but no one spoke.

“Well, go on,” said Dr. Polendina. “I’m sure someone has an idea. Please, don’t be shy. I promise you, there’s no stupid ideas, only things that aren’t possible.”

Nora raised her hand. “Can we make my grenades come out of both sides of my hammer? Right now, they only come out the front, but the back would be cool too.” Her eyes sparkled and she placed her hands under her chin. “And can we add gravity Dust so I can ride it when it’s collapsed?”

Dr. Polendina tapped away at his keyboard. A holo screen appeared on he wall and everything Nora said appeared beneath a picture of Magnhild, in nice, neat bullet points.

“I think all of that is possible,” said Dr. Polendina. “Who’s next?”

“I’d like to alter my weapon, as well,” said Ren. He clasped his hands behind his back, then immediately unclasped them and lifted one hand to twirl his fingers through his hair. “The blades on my guns, I’d like if they were on chains, or ropes. I want them to eject and extend, so I can latch onto an enemy and pull myself to it, or pull it to me.”

The details appeared on the screen under Stormflower’s picture.

“Good, good,” said Dr. Polendina. “We can sharpen the blades, while we’re at it. Perhaps reinforce them?” Ren nodded. “Excellent.”

Yang wanted to install a second gun into her gauntlets, lower down than the first, which would shoot bullet-shaped remote charges, triggered by her gauntlets. Timed bombs. A cool trick, and one Ruby was excited to see at work. That also meant she was getting a second gauntlet again, which Ruby was excited about.

If Yang was willing to use both, again, then maybe she really was healed from what had happened to her. At least mostly.

Jaune wanted to add a Dust capability to his shield, so he could use hard-light Dust, for extra shielding, and gravity Dust, for landing strategy purposes. Ruby wondered if gravity Dust could be used in a shield for offensive purposes. She’d used gravity Dust rounds in the past, to throw herself around, and it was fun, if hard to control.

Weiss wanted to sharpen her blade as well as increase its Dust holding capabilities, but that was it.

“I grew up in Atlas,” she pointed out. “My weapon was designed to be up to our standards.”

Ruby couldn’t argue with that.

Blake just wanted to fix her blade, but in such a way that its repair would be visible to all who saw it. Kintsugi, she called it. It was something more well-known in Mistral and Menagerie than anywhere else, but Ruby had heard the word, before. You repaired something broken with gold to showcase where it had broken, with the idea that the gold made it more beautiful than before.

Ruby understood why. Blake had been broken so many times by her life and her past. Being able to claim that being broken and then repaired made you stronger and all the more beautiful must have been important to her. Of course, they couldn’t use actual gold, just some kind of metal, painted gold.

And then there was the other thing. Gold was similar to yellow. Almost identical, in many ways. And Blake and Yang had been drifting closer together ever since the train to Argus. Ruby wondered if Blake had thought about _that_ part. She wondered if Yang had noticed, either. By the reddening of Yang’s ears at Blake’s explanation, Ruby guessed she was right.

That left Ruby and Oscar. Oscar mumbled something about not really being a huntsman, not needing upgrades, and not being sure it was a good idea. Everyone left him alone, after that.

That left Ruby. And all eyes turned toward her.

Ruby swallowed. She had a few ideas, but not a lot. It was hard to focus on Crescent Rose when her scythe had been her only constant in the last year and a half. Plus, she’d built it with her dad, and with Uncle Qrow, and with only one of them in Atlas, and out of commission, at that, it felt wrong to change her weapon. It felt more wrong to change her outfit, even though she knew she had to, because of the cold.

So many things were changing so quickly. She just wanted it all to slow down. She just wanted something, anything, to stay the same. Just for a minute.

“Um,” said Ruby. “It’d be cool if I could rotate the blade around without rotating the whole scythe.” That was something she had dealt with so many times. It was such a small, stupid thing, but it’d be convenient. “And I guess she needs to be sharpened, but I don’t know if we can do that without getting more metal. The blade is already thinner than it should be.”

Between chipping and general wear and tear, Crescent Rose’s blade was far thinner than Ruby was comfortable with. She kept getting worried that the weight of the rest of the scythe would buckle the blade, or that she’d hit something to tough, too thick, and shred the blade, leaving her without a close-up weapon.

“I don’t know what metal we’d use,” said Ruby, rubbing the back of her neck. “I got the original metal from a trader from Vacuo, but um, that’s not really possible anymore.”

Dr. Polendina hummed, stroking his chin. “Your blade is quite unique in strength and design.” He called up a diagram and Ruby couldn’t help but smile at it. It looked like Dr. Polendina had done a lot of research in even the one night he’d had their weapons. “I only know of one or two materials that would work, but I’m afraid I used the last of it.” His gaze flitted over to Penny, who perked, raising a hand into the air.

“Oh! My swords!” said Penny. She bounced a bit in place. “You have one. Why not use that?” She looked at Ruby and grinned and Ruby lost her breath.

_Her sword._ The blade Ruby had carried in her bag for over a year. The blade Ruby had used to prove to herself that Penny was really gone. A weapon that was more part of Penny than any other weapon was part of a person, because Penny controlled them mentally on their strings.

“You…” Ruby swallowed, trying to form words without losing her voice. She was doing _so well_ at holding it together after last night. She could do it a little longer. “You want me to use one of your swords?” She curled her fingers into a loose fist, resting the hand against her chest. “Are you sure?” She couldn’t get her voice above a hoarse whisper.

Penny beamed, seemingly unaware of the strife that wracked Ruby.

“Oh, yes!” She kept bouncing. “If you use my sword, then I’ll always be with you, because our weapons will be combined.” Penny’s smile widened, if possible. “It’ll be like I’m always protecting you.”

Ruby swallowed again, blinking back tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Great,” she said, voice only slightly cracking. “That’s a great idea.”

“Excellent,” said Dr. Polendina. “I’ll get to work on those upgrades as soon as possible. It shouldn’t take more than a week to do them all.” He hummed, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I do have some suggestions, but I suspect those will fall on deaf ears. You all seem to have a clear idea of what you want with your weapons.”

“Can we put a gun in Blake’s sheath?” asked Nora. “Or a grenade launcher in Jaune’s shield? Ooh, oh, or—”

Ren put a hand over her mouth. “Thank you for all your help, Dr. Polendina. We appreciate everything you’re doing for us.” Nora scowled, though Ruby could only see it in her eyes and eyebrows.

Oscar rubbed his shoulder. “I’m glad I’m not adding to your workload,” he said.

“I suspect I wouldn’t be able to do much with it, anyway,” said Dr. Polendina. He picked the cane up from the desk and tossed it to Oscar, who caught it and cradled it close. “That cane is an enigma to me, and I cannot fathom how much of it works.” Dr. Polendina chuckled. “It might as well be magic!”

Ruby exchanged a look with Oscar as the others gave nervous chuckles. _Was_ Ozpin’s cane magical? And if it was, what sort of powers did it hold? They already knew it wasn’t a relic. What else could it be, instead?

“Now,” said Dr. Polendina. “About your clothes…”

* * *

The Ace Ops headed out of the office, assigned to check in on various parts of the military operations in Mantle. With the reports being inaccurate, it was up to them to uncover what, precisely, was going on with security in Mantle, report to General Ironwood, and get everything fixed.

However, before Clover could leave, General Ironwood called him back into his office. They were alone, everyone else having left and the door closing behind Winter, the last to leave.

Clover folded his arms behind his back. “What is it, General?” he asked.

General Ironwood looked embarrassed. “I was hoping you could check on Qrow. I promised I’d send someone to check in on him today, and I’d rather it was someone I know, and trust, than a stranger.”

“And you don’t want it to be one of his nieces, in case it upsets them,” said Clover.

General Ironwood nodded. “Precisely.” He got to his feet and turned, facing the window that looked out over the city. Clover walked up and stood beside him, looking up at the General. Their height difference wasn’t massive, but it was noticeable enough that Clover had to look up to look the General in the eye.

“You can count on me, sir,” said Clover, smiling a little. “After all, he is your husband.”

General Ironwood turned pink. “It’s a marriage of convenience, Clover.”

“Still a marriage,” Clover pointed out, unable to help himself. Then, softer, “And he’s the one you were training me for, right?”

The words hung in the air for a long moment. Clover bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he’d said something wrong. He’d spent so long studying footage of Qrow Branwen, interviewing those he’d worked with or saved, listening to rumours and researching scythe theory.

General Ironwood had wanted him ready. But he’d never truly explained why.

“Yes,” said General Ironwood, after the silence had stretched out for almost a minute. “He is. It was my hope that Qrow would accept you as his partner, while in Atlas.”

If Clover had Marrow’s tail, it would have wagged. He couldn’t help the excited thrill that ran through his body. A _partner._ Wow. He worked in a team, of course, but it wasn’t the same. He was their fearless, solo leader, and they were two pairs, even if Marrow and Harriet spent more time arguing with each other than fighting Grimm, sometimes.

“I can’t promise he will,” said General Ironwood, as if sensing Clover’s excitement. He glanced at Clover, his mouth a thin line, and Clover tried to school his expression into one of careful neutrality. By the twitch of General Ironwood’s mouth, he failed. “It’s been a long time since Qrow worked on a team, and his last partner…” A shadow fell across the General’s face. He cleared his throat. “It will take time to warm him up to the idea. Be gentle with him.”

Clover snapped a sharp salute. “Yes sir,” he said. Then, “Is there anything else? Or should I head over there now?”

“You can go now. You should still be authorized to enter my apartments. I don’t know where you’ll find him, within them,” said General Ironwood.

Nodding, Clover spun from the window and headed for the door of the office. As he approached, General Ironwood called out to him.

“Clover?” Clover paused and glanced over his shoulder at the General. “I mean it. Go easy on him. This is a hard time for him, and I don’t need him having anxiety over an idea.”

Clover nodded. “Of course, General.” And with that, he turned and left, heading for General Ironwood’s personal apartment.

* * *

There were spiders on the ceiling. Or maybe they were pigeons. Qrow couldn’t tell anymore. He stared at the ceiling, sprawled in the guest bed that was cozier than hell. The blankets smelled faintly of lavender, which was fading by the minute. Good. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with it.

Where was he?

Right, hallucinations.

The ceiling was full of spiders. Or maybe pigeons. Or maybe the Apathy. The thought made him shiver, but he didn’t move. He knew they weren’t real. Maybe it was the medicine James had given him that let him be aware of that, or maybe that was just how it went, or maybe that was just him. He didn’t know. The hallucinations were coming on faster than they had, last time. He didn’t know why.

Maybe it was the trauma.

Maybe it was the knowledge that he could give in and let it all go to shit, right now, because everything was handled.

Gods, his head hurt. All he wanted to do was scream, but that would just make it worse. Everything hurt. His head, his eyes, his fucking _hair._ Everything.

He wanted a drink.

One of the spiders dropped onto the bed and Qrow reached out and smacked it. It vanished in a puff of smoke. He sighed. Well, could be worse.

The nausea was still there, roiling and rumbling in his guts, but he didn’t think he was going to puke anytime soon. Maybe that was the meds. He’d taken another dose a few minutes ago and was waiting for them to kick in. Once they did, he hoped the hallucinations would fade.

He was fucking sick of the spiders.

He hated spiders. Arachnid Grimm were just as bad.

There was movement in the apartment. Qrow blinked a few times, aware of the fading shadows and spiders as he did – thank you, James – and lifted his head to see if James had come back. His Scroll was quiet. No texts, no calls. Huh.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in?” called Qrow, voice hoarse and confusion thick on his tongue.

And then _fucking Clover_ walked into the room.

Qrow scowled. What the hell was Clover doing here? How had he even gotten into the apartment? Was James here? Had James let him in? Where was James?

Clover smiled at him, small and hesitant. “Hey,” he said.

Qrow’s scowl deepened.

“Where’s James?” he asked. His voice was raspy. His throat, dry. His water was empty, unfortunately, so he couldn’t drink. Maybe James would fill it.

“At his office,” said Clover. He leaned in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck. The gesture reminded Qrow so much of himself that it made his head hurt even more. At least the spiders were gone. Nothing weird lurked in the corners of the room. “He sent me to check on you.”

_Great._

“Why?”

Clover seemed taken aback by that. He frowned a little, recovered, and offered his stupid painted-on smile again. “Well, he’s concerned about you. He wanted someone to check in and I was the best option.”

Qrow’s scowl shifted to a pout, though he’d deny it. He wanted _James._ James understood him. James knew what was going on. James didn’t judge him. James had let him into this apartment and didn’t care if he wrecked the bedsheets from sweat and vomit.

He sounded like a petulant child. The kind he always teased Yang and Ruby for sounding like.

“Oh,” said Qrow, because nothing else would sound nearly as nice. He huddled deeper into his blankets. He’d already turned up the heat twice, but he was still freezing. But he wouldn’t stop sweating, either, and the sweat turned cold and clammy on his skin, making him shiver more. His hands trembled as he grasped at the blankets. “Well. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” said Clover. Qrow grimaced. He probably didn’t. He felt like absolute shit.

“So?” asked Qrow, voice shifting down into a snap. His pout shifted back to a scowl.

“Can I get anything for you?” asked Clover. “You know, since I’m here.”

Subject change. Smart, but not subtle. Qrow didn’t think that the Ace Ops knew the meaning of the word ‘subtle’. The costumes they paraded around in didn’t help.

“No,” said Qrow.

“Are you sure? Your water is empty,” said Clover, nodding to the glass on the end table. “Unless you think you can refill it.” Clover flashed him an easy smile. “I won’t question it.”

Qrow scowled. He couldn’t. He knew it. He knew Clover knew it. He hated that Clover knew it. Bastard. Why the hell had James sent him? Why hadn’t he sent a nurse? Or himself? Qrow grumbled quietly, too low for even himself to hear properly.

“Pardon?” asked Clover, cocking his head. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

Qrow’s scowl deepened.

“Yes, fill up my damn water,” snapped Qrow.

Clover nodded and snapped to attention. “Of course!” He strode across the room, beamed at Qrow, and disappeared out the bedroom door. Qrow sighed and lifted his hand to his head. The room was tilting to one side, then it shifted back, before settling again. He wanted to text James, but using his new Scroll seemed like a lot of work. Finding his contact info on the list, texting out a message, trying to be coherent. Too much damn work. Gods.

His stomach churned, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten today, but he had no want to eat. No appetite. Mostly he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep to avoid the jittering in his hands and the anxiety that clawed at his chest.

Why the hell was Clover here? Sure, James had sent him, but was that all there was? Was he here to laugh at Qrow? To whisper of his weakness? To watch him as he fell to this stupid fucking withdrawal?

But James didn’t trust people easily. If he’d sent Clover, the captain of his god damn secret operatives, to help Qrow, then Qrow needed to trust him. Still, he couldn’t help the suspicion that brewed under the surface. Trusting Clover just because James did could be dangerous. How many times had James been fooled in the past?

“Got it,” said Clover, striding back into the room with the water. He set it down on the end table, then, after fiddling with his hands for a minute, sat down on the end of the bed, not far from where James had sat, that morning. Qrow’s hackles rose, jealousy roiling through him at the idea of Clover sitting in _James’_ spot.

It wasn’t James’ spot. He’d only sat there once.

But it _was_ James’ spot. Qrow grit his teeth. He would not snap again. James deserved better than that.

“How’re you feeling?” asked Clover. “I know you said you were fine, but withdrawal can’t be easy.” He rested his hand, not far from Qrow’s leg. Qrow moved them both, scooting away from Clover. He scowled.

“Don’t trust me?” he asked, unable to keep the shadow from his words.

Clover blinked, leaning back. “Of course I do. But I thought you might have used a default reaction, like most people.” He offered Qrow a small, unsure smile. “General Ironwood may have sent me, Qrow, but I do care.”

Qrow narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Well… because I’ve been told a lot about you, I guess,” said Clover. He lifted one foot, socks, not boots, onto the bed and wrapped his arms around the raised leg, loose, easy. Casual. All the things Qrow could never be. “General Ironwood cares a great deal about you, and he talks a lot about you, when we ask.” He shrugged. “I might not know you in person, but I’m invested in how you feel, and what you’re up to. I’d like to be your friend.”

Qrow snorted. “I don’t have a lot of friends.” He swallowed, shadow and pain falling across him all at once. The pain in his stomach forgotten as an old, deeper pain settled into his bones. “I’m not good for people.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s fair,” said Clover. Qrow’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. What? “You seem to be great for General Ironwood. He trusts you more than anyone else in the world, and I know you make him happy.” He shifted on the bed, tilting his head to one side. “And I’d argue you’re good for your nieces. They were concerned about you, today, and they seem very strong.” His smile turned crooked and thoughtful, all at once. “You can tell they’ve learned a lot from you. Ruby, she stands like you, and Yang, she talks like you do. Barbs that cut to the truth without any fluff.”

Yang spoke like him? Ruby moved like him? Qrow didn’t know if he agreed with that. The girls had more of their parents – all three – in them than anything else. Qrow had helped Ruby with her aesthetic, but she’d loved Summer’s colour scheme from old family photos, anyway. And Raven’s, as well. Something Qrow didn’t understand, considering they were separated by both time and blood. Yang worked more toward Taiyang’s aesthetic.

The only thing he could really claim with Ruby was her weapon. The scythe was based more on his than any other weapon, the sniper capabilities non-withstanding. That was something that had come straight from Summer.

“Hey, don’t look so upset about that,” said Clover. “I’d say you did great, keeping them alive on the road. They seem like good kids. I look forward to working with them.”

A flicker in Qrow’s awareness, drawing him out of his thoughts. Working with them. That meant Ruby and the kids had made their decision. They were working with James.

Qrow let out a breath, a tension he hadn’t noticed easing from his chest and shoulders. He relaxed back into the pillows, picking up the glass of water and drinking half of it in one go. The cool water soothed most of the heat that burned through his body.

His fever didn’t wobble against the coolness, determined to settle into his bones and torch him from the inside, out.

“So, we’re working with the army, then?” asked Qrow. He refused to acknowledge what Clover said about the kids. He didn’t owe the guy his tragic backstory, or any story, really. The kids had kept themselves alive. All Qrow had done was get in the way.

Clover furrowed his brow. He seemed like he wanted to ask about the subject change, but Qrow levelled him with a glare until he backed off.

“Uh, yeah. Ruby agreed to work alongside General Ironwood to help restore communications and to find a way to stop Salem,” said Clover. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. “I suspect you’ll all spend a lot of time working alongside us.” He faltered, then added, “That is, if you want to. Obviously you’re not part of their team, you’re on your own. I mean, if you want to be. You don’t have to be.”

Now, Qrow was confused. What the hell was up with this guy?

“What?” asked Qrow, his voice tinged with frustration. He raised both eyebrows at Clover, giving him a flat look.

“Oh! Right, I guess you wouldn’t know yet.” Clover flushed, his ears turning into tiny red flags. Caution, they said, stop, they warned. Qrow ignored them and kept pushing.

“Know what?”

Clover smiled at him, shy in a way that didn’t suit the grown ass man. “General Ironwood asked me to study you – that’s why I’d seen you in videos, before. He wanted me to work to understand your fighting style and skills, until I knew it as well as I knew my own.”

Qrow narrowed his eyes, further, until he peered at Clover through arrow slits. “You’re not making any sense.”

“He wants me to be your partner,” said Clover. “If you’ll have me.”

_Partner._

The word echoed in his head, dragging up memories from things over twenty years in the past. A forest. An Ursa. A flash of silver eyes and the tinkling bells of a laugh that would lift Qrow from despair more than once. A hand held out in question, a white cloak billowing around her.

_“Partners?” she asked, a light smile on her face. The question was redundant. Their eyes had met. That made them partners. He could have run. Could have denied it. He and Raven were supposed to be partners. Yet, here this girl was, turning their plan upside down in an instant._

_Little did he know, she’d turn every plan he’d ever had upside down._

_“Partners,” he agreed, taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet._

Partner.

A word that twitched against his skin, oozed into his bones, and screamed through his veins that he did not deserve a partner. That he’d let his last one slip away. She’d been the one to teach him how to care about more than family, about how to make friends, about how to let go and enjoy himself. She’d been his best friend, his partner, his other sister. She’d been the lover of both his sister and his brother in arms.

_Partners._

He’d let her die. He still didn’t know _how_ she died.

_Partners?_

No. He didn’t need another partner.

He didn’t need more blood on his hands.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Qrow. His voice sounded hoarse and faraway. He couldn’t shake the memories from his body. The shine of silver eyes on a battlefield, the shout of a lilting voice to get out of the way, the whisper of a cloak as she stepped away from him.

The taste of blood and ash on his lips as he watched her destroy the world to save him and her husband.

Summer Rose had been a goddess amongst mortals. The most powerful person, being, _anything_ , that Qrow had ever met. And she had fallen outside the light of the world, without witnesses, without knowledge, leaving nothing behind but a broken family that prayed she’d return.

Prayer was useless. The gods had abandoned them. And the closest thing they’d gotten since had fallen when no one was looking.

He’d loved her like a sister. He’d mourned her like one, too.

“Why not?” asked Clover.

“It’s just not,” snapped Qrow. His stomach rumbled and he grimaced. He didn’t want to vomit again. His jaw already hurt from it. “I don’t need a partner. You don’t want me.”

“But—” started Clover.

Nausea swept across Qrow with intensity he hadn’t felt in twelve hours. He swore, lurched, his entire body trembling. The bucket appeared in his lap and he vomited into it, curling into the stiff plastic.

When it was over, he pushed himself away from it, trembling with the aftermath of his heaving.

“Here,” said Clover. He took the bucket and handed Qrow a face cloth. Qrow took it, the cool dampness soothing the heat of his face as he swept it over his skin and throat. “Maybe General Ironwood was right. I shouldn’t have brought this up so soon.”

“James wants you to be my partner?” Clover had said that before, hadn’t he? But Qrow had been too distracted to pay much attention to it. Why would James want him to have a partner? Was Qrow going to be doing a lot of field work, in Atlas?

Everything felt heavy. The damn meds were making him tired. Again. He wanted to curl up and sleep for a few days. Mostly just to avoid the pounding in his head and his gut.

“If you’ll have me,” said Clover. “He made it very clear it was your call. Not mine.”

Qrow scowled. What was James thinking? Did he not think Qrow could handle himself? That was a stupid question. _Qrow_ knew he couldn’t handle himself. That was why he didn’t go near other people. That was why he’d hung back, when the kids were travelling, instead of meeting them at the start.

That was why he didn’t get close to people. James was the only exception he’d ever made, long term. And even then, Qrow only ever saw him once in a while. He feared what staying in Atlas would do to them, their friendship, and James’ safety.

“I’ll pass,” said Qrow, the words bitter in his mouth. He wanted to ask Clover what the hell James was thinking. He wanted to ask Clover if James had given a reason for training him to be his partner. He wanted to ask Clover if he was as stupid as Qrow thought he was, why he was so eager to be Qrow’s partner, and why the hell James trusted him so much.

He’d never met the Ace Ops before now. He’d never spent much time in Atlas, before now.

“All right,” said Clover, his voice soft. His shoulders slumped and his gaze was downcast. He fidgeted with his hands. “I’m going to go handle some paperwork in the living room.”

“You don’t have to stay,” said Qrow. He didn’t _want_ Clover to stay, but the idea of being alone, if something horrible happened, terrified him more than Clover staying bothered him. He watched the way Clover shifted. The dismissal had really upset him, as far as Qrow could tell.

“General Ironwood wants me to keep an eye on you, so I will,” said Clover. He got to his feet. “Try and get some rest, all right?” He picked up the bucket, grimaced, and then put on a brave face. “I’ll be back.”

With that, he left the room. Qrow sighed and settled deep in his blankets, his hands over his face. _Damn it, James._

All he’d wanted was to recover with James at his side. But that was selfish and impossible. At least, by the end of this, Clover wouldn’t want to be his partner. Seeing someone like this was enough to ruin your image of anyone, no matter what bullshit you’d built up in your head.

Which felt a little sad, almost. Because he’d never had a grown ass adult think he was great, based on what other people said about him.

It almost felt like a loss. But he didn’t deserve Clover’s hero worship. He didn’t deserve _anyone’s_ hero worship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and other forms of feedback are deeply appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!


	8. The Passing of Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's do some time passing, shall we? ...This is really long.
> 
> tw for some past (discussed) transphobia, some anxiety, and a discussion of an abusive (past) relationship

Night in Atlas was beautiful. Ruby sat on the roof of the dorms. They were curved and sloped, like dinner plates turned upside down. Still, it wasn’t hard to climb up. Only a little harder than Beacon, because Beacon had stairs to the roofs.

She sat on the roof in her pyjamas, her arms wrapped around her raised knees. There were a billion stars in the sky, undeterred by the light pollution of the capital city. Ruby could see the sprawling trail of misty stars that curved toward the moon – mostly shattered, partially full.

It was cold, colder still because she wore socks and short sleeves, as opposed to boots and a jacket, but she had her hood, torn and ratty as it was, and that kept the worst of it off her.

Technically, she should have been asleep, but she didn’t want to. The dorms, now with just RWBY, with JNOR down the hall, because there weren’t any dorms with eight beds, were quiet and dark. The idea of spending hours on end staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, while her anxieties ate her alive, wasn’t exactly appealing.

Not that it was any better out here. Only the wind and the stars kept her company, now, and the lights of the ships that flew around the city.

Ruby sighed, quiet and frustrated, both with herself and with the rest of the world. What was she supposed to do, now? Her emotions and thoughts ran wild, her turmoil on full display to anyone who was around her for more than a few minutes. What had happened to her control? She used to be so good at this, but now she was just broken. Damaged.

So much of it was because of Penny. Seeing Penny again had destroyed every wall she’d ever had around her heart and her head. All the trauma, all the fear, all the pain of the last year and a half was back at the surface, tearing into her and rendering her vulnerable and exhausted. Trying to push it back was more energy than she had, most days.

She wanted to say “at least they were in Atlas”, but the truth was, coming to Atlas was what had finally broken her. And really, they weren’t any closer to beating Salem. Ruby was still carting around the relic, like she had been in Mistral and Argus.

They knew more, now. They knew about Jinn, now. Cinder had vanished, back in Mistral. Those three things were all they’d gained, and they’d lost so much, as well. Ozpin was hiding. Atlas was fractured.

Was it all worth it?

Ruby shook her head.

This was why she’d gotten out of bed. She didn’t want to think about all this. She was Ruby Rose, optimist extraordinaire.

Where was that optimism now?

Ruby sighed and dropped her forehead to her knees, closing her eyes. She did what Dad always told her to do, when she felt like this. She focused on the physical, instead of the mental. On the cold wind that blew against her face and whipped through her hair. On the smooth metal of the roof that slowly leeched her heat. On the texture of the pyjamas, Atlas Academy standard, and how they were far softer than she’d expected.

“What do you think, Mom?” whispered Ruby, her eyes still closed. She drew upon one of the few memories of her mother, and of the stories Yang had told her, over the years. Mom was kind. Mom was soft. Mom was sweet. Mom had known. All of Team STRQ had known, according to Uncle Qrow. Ruby wondered why Dad didn’t fight, then.

Maybe he couldn’t.

Maybe this was how he fought.

“I don’t know what to do,” whispered Ruby. There were only two options, as she saw them. She could either stay the course and keep trying to defeat Salem, or she could give up and go home. Dad would make her cocoa and hug her, while Ruby waited for all her friends to die.

Obviously, she was staying. But that didn’t make the future any easier.

A humming reached Ruby’s ears. She lifted her head and saw Penny floating up to her, her jet boots glowing green at the bottoms.

“Ruby!” said Penny, smiling at her. “I thought I saw your cape up here.” Ruby held her breath for a moment. She hadn’t been one on one with Penny yet, and that was both because of time and her own feelings. She’d been hoping to avoid being one on one with her as long as possible.

Guess that was no longer an option.

“Hey, Penny,” said Ruby.

Penny floated down and sat down next to Ruby, looking up at the moon, then over to Ruby. She smiled. “What are you doing awake so late? I thought you needed to sleep at this time.”

Ruby shrugged. “I don’t feel like sleeping, Penny.”

“Oh,” said Penny. “Why not?” She tilted her head to one side and raised one eyebrow at Ruby, wrinkling her nose. It was _incredibly_ cute. Ruby bit the inside of her cheek.

She needed to ask Yang and Uncle Qrow how they dealt with stuff like this. They were pretty gay, and Yang… well, she had whatever was going on with Blake. She’d probably have an idea on how to deal with emotions, or hide them. Either would be great, at this point.

“I dunno. I guess there’s a lot to think about, and I’m too worried to sleep.” Ruby sighed. She stared up at the moon, which felt different now that she knew _why_ it was shattered. Proof of abandonment. Proof of their isolation.

Proof of a grieving woman, destroyed.

And maybe that was it. Maybe this wasn’t about not knowing how to destroy Salem. Maybe it was the fact that Ruby saw, now, _why_ she was Salem. Saw what had started this journey. She wasn’t sure if she felt sympathy or not. Salem had done such horrible things to humanity. Such horrible things to _Oz_ and their children. She was a killer. She was a heartless monster in so many ways.

But part of Ruby couldn’t help but wonder if that was Salem or the Grimm. Sure, Salem hadn’t been totally stable _before_ she jumped in the pool of Grimm, but there also was no such thing as medication, back then. Or grief counselling.

Was attributing part of what she was so unchecked to mental illness, ableist? Demonizing? She didn’t know. She wished she could talk to Ozpin about all this. But they weren’t answering the phone. It meant they all got to know Oscar better, which was great. There were just times Ruby wished she could ask Ozpin about the past.

Would Ozpin even talk about the past, now that they knew?

Ruby remembered the tears streaming down Oscar’s face, after Jinn’s revelations. The broken way Ozpin had spoken with Oscar’s voice. The way they’d vanished, sobbing and broken, into the depths of Oscar’s mind.

A horrible thought struck Ruby, as she replayed those moments in her head.

Had _Ozpin_ ever seen Salem’s side of the story? Had Ozpin ever known what transpired, between their death and the moment they’d met Grimmified Salem, so many years later? Had Ozpin ever asked, or had they assumed Salem had told the whole truth?

It made her stomach tie itself into knots. She grimaced at the taste of bile on her tongue.

“Ruby?” asked Penny.

Ruby started. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Ruby blinked a few times. What? Was she… _okay?_ She couldn’t think of the answer. Had she been okay, when they’d shown up in Atlas and she’d watched Penny rise into the sky like a spirit back from the dead? Had she been okay, when she’d floated on a fake Lancer, stared down a Leviathan, and tried to destroy it with her eyes? Had she been okay when she asked Jinn what Ozpin was hiding from them? When she’d watched Weiss go down in Mistral? When she watched Uncle Qrow slowly wither and die after a fight he never should have had to save her from? When she struck out from home, leaving only a note behind, not knowing if she’d live long enough to see her dad again? Or when she watched Penny, then Pyrrha, be destroyed in a war they had barely known about?

Had she been okay since she walked into the arena the morning of Yang’s fight versus Mercury, before everything went to hell?

“No,” whispered Ruby. “I’m really not.”

Penny reached out and laid one gloved hand atop Ruby’s, which rested atop her own knees. Her gloves were soft, and cool to the touch. Ruby took a deep breath.

“Can I do anything to help?” asked Penny.

Ruby closed her eyes and bowed her head. “I don’t know, Penny.” She swallowed, hard, and braced herself for her next words. “It’s just really hard, sometimes, getting you back from the dead. You were gone for so _long_ and now you’re here, like nothing ever happened, and that’s really hard to deal with, on top of everything else.”

“Oh.” Penny’s voice was soft, almost sad. “Well, look on the bright side?”

Ruby lifted her head and raised an eyebrow at Penny. “What bright side?”

“You didn’t have to make a deal with a god to get me back,” said Penny. Those words opened up something in Ruby’s chest and she sucked in a breath. Was _that_ why her feelings about Salem were so mixed, since coming to Atlas? They hadn’t been like that, before. Sure, she’d felt _something_ , after Jinn’s reveal in the snowy woods between Mistral and Argus, but it hadn’t been this.

But now, getting Penny back… it was almost like when Salem got Ozpin back, not when she made a deal with the Gods, but when she turned herself into a Grimm and shut herself away. Like Salem, Ruby had mourned her lost love. Like Salem, Ruby had given up a chance of getting her back. Like Salem, Ruby had stopped trusting those who held all the magic, the answers, and made her own way. Like Salem, Ruby had gathered an army to fight against gods.

Like Salem, Ruby had gotten back her love when she least expected it, seemingly with no strings attached.

It made her heart sink.

Was she like Salem? Was Penny like Ozpin? And, if they were? What were the strings? What were they paying, to be together again?

“I don’t think it’s at all similar,” choked out Ruby, because she had to say it, to get those thoughts out of her head. It wasn’t the same. Ruby hadn’t tried to kill herself, because too many people depended on her. No matter how much despair she’d felt, some days. Ruby hadn’t turned her back on humanity.

Ruby hadn’t hurt innocent people.

“You’re right,” said Penny. She shifted closer and put her arm around Ruby’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. It was a really bad joke. I just wanted you to laugh.”

Ruby tensed, felt Penny lean into her, and let herself relax. They were friends. Penny was physical. She liked that about Penny. She could keep liking that about Penny.

She felt the same. Even if she was a little taller, a little curvier, a little _older_ , for lack of a better word. The hair was still hard to get used to, but it suited her. It was beautiful.

Just like her.

Ruby rested her head on Penny’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Just having you here makes me feel better,” she said, voice soft.

“Okay,” said Penny. “Then I’ll stay here. For as long as you need.”

Ruby, despite everything, smiled. “Thanks, Penny.” They sat there for a while, silent, and for once, Ruby’s brain wasn’t shouting into that silence.

* * *

James took the morning off, a couple days after the ragtag bunch of teenagers and Qrow showed up on his doorstep. Technically, he shouldn’t have. Technically, he had a thousand things to do. But nothing would fall apart if he took a few hours off, there were people who knew how to do most things, and he could answer most of his emails from home.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he was taking the whole day off. Just a few short hours. Just to keep Qrow company.

James sat on the couch, lounging against the cushions. Qrow laid down near him, his head in James’ lap and his eyes closed. He laid on his back, but his head was tilted to one side, his breaths ruffling James’ untucked button-down.

James combed the fingers of his left hand through Qrow’s hair in slow, soothing motions. His other hand held his Scroll while he read through his emails. The vomiting had stopped, for the most part, and Qrow hadn’t been sick since early yesterday evening. He still wasn’t eating much, but he was keeping water down, and James kept giving him popsicles.

“Hey, Jim?” Qrow’s voice was low and hoarse, rumbling in his throat. James tilted his head and looked down at Qrow, who turned his own head to look up at James.

“Yes?” asked James.

“Are there spiders on the ceiling?” asked Qrow, his gaze flicking up to the ceiling. James looked up. He’d painted the ceiling dark blue, a few years ago, and painted the constellations in white and yellow. He saw the Seven Huntresses, the Four Maidens, the Brothers, and many more constellations, but no spiders.

“Not that I can see,” said James.

Qrow let out a huff and closed his eyes. James returned to soothing his fingers through his hair. Qrow leaned his head into James’ touch.

“Then I’m hallucinating again,” murmured Qrow. He snorted. “Perfect.”

“Should I get the meds?” asked James, his hand stilling. Qrow bumped his head into James’ hand and James cracked a smile, resuming his motions.

“No.”

James lifted his eyebrows. “You’d stop hallucinating.”

Qrow whined. “You’d have to _move_.”

That drew a chuckle out of James. “You’re so hard done by.” He couldn’t help the light teasing in his voice. “Are you going to ask me to rub your feet and call you nice names, later?”

Qrow opened his eyes and furrowed his brow at James. “Would you?”

James faltered. He’d meant it as a joke. Although…

“If you asked nicely,” said James, his voice soft, “I might be convinced.”

“I’ll remember that,” murmured Qrow.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to get your meds?” asked James. “I’m sure they’d help.”

Qrow closed his eyes and sighed. “Pretty sure if you got up, the drop would make me puke, so I’ll handle the spiders. Kinda liking not throwing up every twenty minutes.” James scratched a spot above Qrow’s ear and Qrow leaned into it.

“I imagine,” replied James, in the same murmur. “Is it really that bad?”

“S’probably worse,” said Qrow, his voice a mumble. His brows pinched above his nose. Where his skin wasn’t pale, it was unevenly flushed. When James reached down to touch Qrow’s hand, he found the skin, there, was clammy. James had found Atlas pyjamas for Qrow, and a hoodie, all of which were meant to keep him warm. Still, he shivered from time to time, a sheen of cold sweat from a fever speckling his forehead in water droplets.

“I’m sorry,” said James, quietly. He stroked Qrow’s hair, soothing his fingers through the limp, sweaty locks. “It will pass.” Anywhere from one to two weeks, most likely, with ten days being the general average. This was day three. The peak of symptoms was in the first 24-72 hours, or so said his research. Hopefully, after today, the symptoms would lessen.

“S’my own fault.” Qrow’s slur was getting worse, most likely both a symptom of his withdrawal and his exhaustion. “If I hadn’t fallen so hard into the bottle, this wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Perhaps.” James didn’t lift his voice above a whisper. “But you had your reasons, as much as I might have disagreed.” He frowned, trying to find the words. “It’s pointless to punish yourself for the past, especially when you’re trying to make up for those mistakes. All you can do is move forward.”

Qrow’s bloodshot eyes fluttered open, but only halfway. He cracked a crooked, self-deprecating smile at James. “You’re one to talk. You’ve been punishing yourself for shit I don’t understand since we met.” He squinted at James. “Not to mention whatever you’ve been doing to yourself since Beacon.”

The words hung in the air. James winced at them, but couldn’t protest. He prided himself on his honesty, and Qrow had hit the nail on the head. James _was_ punishing himself for Beacon. His robots had turned, his surrogate niece had been killed, his dignity destroyed, his life changed forever.

Everyone had lost so much in the fall of Beacon, and James had managed to cling, by the skin of his teeth, to his titles and his positions. Something he was careful to never take for granted. He’d meant what he said to Ms.—Ruby. He’d meant what he said to _Ruby._ Beacon would never happen again. He’d make certain of it.

“That’s different,” said James.

“You know,” said Qrow, tone dry despite its hoarseness and slur. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”

James sighed. “ _Qrow_.”

“James.”

“It _is_ different,” insisted James. “My army failed. My soldiers were taken from me. I failed, Qrow.” James clenched his right fist and sucked in a breath as he felt his Scroll bend beneath his metal digits. He set down the Scroll on the couch, next to his thigh. “And we still don’t know how Cinder Fall managed to get into my systems.”

Qrow sighed, his body sinking further into the cushions and James’ lap. “We’ll figure it out. But you can’t do it alone. S’not a competition, James. You don’t fail if you ask for help.”

James’ mouth closed at those words, teeth clicking together. He didn’t have an answer for that. How was he supposed to? Qrow’s words had a habit of tearing down every defense he had, ripping away his ability to protest or argue with only a sentence.

But wasn’t that the point of friends? Qrow had always challenged everything about James and James’ opinions. They’d argued for over a decade, because of the differences in their opinions. Shouting matches, words thrown about carelessly until both of them were torn raw and blistering from the force of such pain. They always made up. They always made it work. They usually came to a compromise.

Vale was the first time they hadn’t compromised, because James had refused to bend from what he believed to be the right path.

It didn’t escape his notice that the first time he and Qrow hadn’t come to a middle ground, the place they’d been protecting had been ripped apart, burnt to the ground, and littered with the bodies of innocents caught in the crossfire.

“Stop that,” said Qrow. He reached up with one hand and weakly wacked at the side of James’ face. James leaned his head away from the attack, until only the back of Qrow’s fingers grazed his beard.

“Stop what?” asked James, but he was being petulant. He knew what Qrow was saying. Just as Qrow knew that he knew. It was a cycle. A dance. One they’d perfected, years ago.

Another thing about having Qrow back: there was someone in Atlas to yell at him, to argue, to tell him when he went too far, to question everything when James fell too far into his own fears and succumbed to his monsters. And it seemed Qrow had been training eight teenagers to do the same thing.

Despite how difficult it would make some things, James couldn’t help how unbelievably _grateful_ he felt. No more fearing if people agreed because they were underlings, or they were scared to say something to him, or they just didn’t want to be in charge, themselves.

There were people to hold him accountable, people he could hold council with. Qrow coming to Atlas hadn’t just given James his best friend, back. It had given him a diverse swath of opinions and outlooks on life that would fundamentally change everything – had, already, changed everything.

“Overthinking,” said Qrow. He flicked James in the nose and James grimaced, lifting his right hand to rub at his nose. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, having taken them off to help Qrow, earlier. It was… odd, to be without them in the company of others. James kept startling whenever he caught sight of the metal digits out of the corner of his eye.

Qrow sighed. “I can hear you thinking, Jim.”

James grimaced and looked away from Qrow. Qrow’s hand found his face and tugged, slightly, with the pads of his fingers, to turn James’ face back toward Qrow. James gave in, though it wouldn’t have been hard to resist. That wasn’t the point, resisting. The point was finding common ground.

“There’s a lot to think about,” said James.

Qrow rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible.” His fingers carded through James’ beard. “Still getting used to this.”

“Atlas?” asked James, feeling his ears heat for no reason he could discern.

“The beard,” murmured Qrow. “It’s strange. Tells a lot, you know, about what you’re going through.” Qrow’s hand fell to his stomach and James pushed down the sadness he felt at the loss of the touch. What was _wrong_ with him, today?

“Does it?” asked James, wrinkling his nose. Again, being obtuse on purpose. Again, he didn’t want to put it to words, himself. He’d rather let Qrow. Qrow made it sound… less horrific.

“You’re falling.”

James looked away from Qrow. He focused on the constellations on the ceiling. On Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, on the Beowolf Belt. He ignored the prickling in his eyes and the tightness in his chest. They came from the same thing: _acknowledgement._ Even if he’d acknowledged that he was slipping, to himself, that he was scared and confused and without plans, to others. Yet, he hadn’t received the same in return. Everyone seemed to think that his issues ended where he spoke of them.

No one read beneath the surface. No one but Qrow.

“James. You’re falling. I don’t know how long,” Qrow’s words tumbled out, words overlapping like they couldn’t get out of his mouth fast enough, “but you’ve been falling for a while.” Qrow shifted, pushing upright to sit next to James. He leaned, heavily, into James’ side. “Let me catch you.” He broke off into coughing, body curling into itself.

James started, curling his arm around Qrow and soothing a hand up and down his back. Should he get the bucket? The words echoed around his mind, repeating until they lost meaning, lost clarity.

“I’m _fine_ ,” croaked Qrow. He pushed harder into James, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, I hate this. I want it _over._ I want to be _better._ ”

“I know,” whispered James. “I know.” Qrow rested his head on James’ shoulder and James rested his cheek on Qrow’s head. “Soon.”

Qrow snorted. “Nah. I’ll be fighting addiction for years, if not forever.” He sighed, sagging into James’ side, so heavily that James had to brace himself a bit. “Every time I see it, there’ll be that voice in my head, begging for one more.” Then, “I’m not much, especially not now, but I’ll try.” He sighed. “Gods, James, I will try.”

“Thank you.” But Qrow’s words bothered him and James couldn’t let them go. “And you’re plenty. Rather—” He sighed. “You’ve always been enough, Qrow. More than you know. You’ve always been the person I trust most, in this world, the one I’d do anything for. And I am grateful that you’re back, especially now.”

He looked at Qrow, and Qrow offered him a little, self-deprecating smile.

“I married you, Qrow,” said James. “I wouldn’t do that for anyone.”

Qrow snorted. “You married me so I’d have full access to Atlas for the mission.”

“There were other things I could do,” said James. “They were just as difficult, granted, but they were there. Qrow. You’re my best friend, something I thought I’d never say as a grown man, but here we are.” He squeezed Qrow’s shoulder.

“You know,” said Qrow. “We have to figure out how we’re handling that.”

James hummed. “The only people who know are us, our inner circle, and Dr. Polendina, though he’s been sworn to secrecy.”

Qrow furrowed his brow at James. “Why does he know?”

“Penny,” said James, drily. “I forgot to tell her not to tell him.”

“Of course you did,” said Qrow, snorting. “So, we just act the same as always? Pretend my access is from other shit?” He nodded. “Seems fine.” There was no malice in Qrow’s voice, so James let himself take the words at face value.

“It is on your file, technically, because your rank is unique to being my husband.” James stumbled on the words. He still wasn’t used to saying them aloud. Since they’d signed the documents to make Qrow his husband for this mission, he’d only spoken the words aloud less than a dozen times. There had never been a reason to, before. In fact, most of those times had been since he’d explained the situation to his inner circle.

“Huh.” Qrow hummed and closed his eyes again. He was fading, James could feel it in the way Qrow sagged, boneless, against his side. “Should probably switch my rank on the public access for military personnel, then.”

James grimaced and rubbed his free hand over his mouth. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” murmured Qrow. “You never did like lying.”

James opened his mouth to retort, found he couldn’t, and sighed. Instead, he changed the subject. Not because he didn’t want to talk to Qrow about this – though he didn’t, not really – but because Qrow seemed like he was barely clinging to consciousness.

“Why don’t we put you back to bed?” asked James. “You seem like you could use a nap.”

Qrow hummed, again, and slid down on the couch, pillowing his head on James’ thigh and curling onto his side.

“’M fine here,” said Qrow, his voice a mumble. “When you get up, grab the meds. Otherwise, I’m…” He yawned. “Sleep.”

“All right,” said James, softly. He soothed his hand across Qrow’s hair and gave a small smile. “Rest well, Qrow.” He had a while before he had to go into the office, yet. Maybe a few minutes of selfishness wouldn’t hurt.

Besides, he liked Qrow’s company, even when Qrow was like this, and Qrow didn’t deserve to be alone, during such a hard time.

* * *

Blake knocked on the JNOR door in the mid-afternoon, a few days after they’d arrived in Atlas. When the door opened, it was Ren, and she looked around to confirm what she’d already seen – Jaune, Nora, and Oscar had gone out to gather supplies for tonight’s movie party.

“Blake,” said Ren, smiling at her. “Is everything okay?”

Blake took a deep breath and pulled the hairdressing scissors out from behind her back. “I want you to cut my hair.”

Ren looked at them, then at Blake, and nodded. “All right. I have one question, however, before we get started.” He stepped aside and allowed Blake to come into the room. The door slid shut behind them.

“Sure,” said Blake. Still she tensed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“More of a request, really,” said Ren. He sat down on one of the beds and patted the space next to him. Blake took the offered seat. She wondered if this was his bed. JNPR hadn’t had bunk beds, so whoever was on the top bunk wasn’t used to it.

“Okay?” Blake furrowed her brow and wrinkled her nose.

“I’d like you to tell me why,” said Ren. “For as long as I’ve known you, your hair has been important to you. Not as important as Yang’s, of course, but important, nonetheless. Cutting it must mean a lot.”

Blake let out a slow breath. She could answer this, even if she didn’t want to.

“You know that I’m trans,” said Blake, fumbling with her words as they spilled passed her lips. Her cheeks flushed and she took a breath, her ears swivelling back and flattening to her head. It was still weird, to talk about it out loud, when she’d spent so long trying to hide both her transness and her ears from everyone around her. Of the seven other members of her team, six of them knew, with Oscar being left out of the loop. No one from Atlas knew, except Weiss, of course, and Qrow didn’t know, either.

He seemed fine. And he was trying.

But he was a man. He was older. He was gruff. And his eyes glinted when you stared too long at him. His hunger for battle was matched only by one person Blake had ever known.

And _he’d_ put a sword through her gut, a year and a half prior, leaving a scar she couldn’t ignore when she looked in the mirror.

“I do,” said Ren, his voice soft. “And I cannot express how honoured I am to know such things about you.” He rested a hand atop hers and smiled at her. “I’m glad to call you my friend, Blake.”

Her blush darkened, less from awkwardness and more from being flustered. She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. She wasn’t going short enough that she couldn’t do this, afterward, but she also had no idea how it’d feel. Her hair had been long even _before_ she’d come out, and it had only grown longer since.

“You too,” she replied. With a quiet sigh, she braced herself to explain the rest. “I’ve spent a long time using my hair as a way to hide, both in my gender presentation and in general. When you have hair like this, you can hide your face, your body, your… emotions.”

“I understand,” said Ren, tightening his fingers in hers. “I’ve allowed mine to grow for many reasons, but I admit that hiding my face with it is one of those.” He bowed his head, hair falling like a curtain across one cheek, as if to showcase that. “It’s useful, when you don’t want people to know what you’re thinking.”

Blake nodded. “It is,” she agreed. She pulled her hand from Ren’s and shifted until her back was against one of the side walls of the bunk. She drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, staring down at her knees. It was easier, without looking, for this part.

“Blake?”

“Adam loved my hair,” she whispered. A heavy weight fell across the room. “He used to say that the longer it was, the more beautiful I was. He said my hair was my best feature. I wasn’t allowed to wear it up, or cut it, or ever style it.” She swallowed, hard. “When he was… in a mood… he’d say my hair hid my masculine features, that it was what truly made me a _woman._ ” She choked on her words, her voice breaking off into a hoarse noise.

Ren reached toward her. Blake shrunk back and kept going. If she stopped now, she’d never start again.

“I’ve held my femininity, my identity, my _gender_ in my hair for so much of my life. I let Adam dictate so much of who I was and what was important in that.” Blake’s voice trembled on each word. Tears gathered, but she refused to let them fall. She’d cried enough over Adam for one lifetime. “But he’s _dead_ , Ren. He’s dead and we killed him. _I_ killed him. And you know what?” She reached up and yanked at her hair, hauling a chunk of it over her shoulder to hold it up. “Ruby has short hair. Nora has short hair. My _mom_ has short hair. I’ve never thought they were lesser than any other woman because their hair is short. You know how _long_ I’ve wanted to cut my hair? To see what it looked like short?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. Her words had grown faster and faster, stumbling over one another. She forced herself to back down to a slower pace.

“I want to like the person I see in the mirror, again,” she said, words measured and soft. She lifted her gaze to Ren. “And maybe I’m still doing things for Adam, in some stupid way. But I want to cut my hair. Because I want him gone, I want his influence _gone_ , and because _I_ want my hair to be short. I want to look like my mom, like Ruby, like all the women in this world I love and respect.” She blinked at the tears in her eyes and a few rolled down her cheeks, hot and stinging. “I want to look like _me_. And the only way I can do that is to try and find out what _me_ looks like.”

Ren stared back at her, his lips parted and his eyes soft and wide at the same time.

Blake wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “So that’s why I want to cut my hair, Ren. Is that a good enough reason?”

Ren nodded, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “Yes, Blake. I think that’s a perfectly good reason.” He held out his hand and Blake handed him the scissors. “How short do you want to go?”

She smiled at him and climbed off the bed. “My chin,” she said. “Take it to my chin.”

He nodded. “Your chin it is.”

* * *

It took time. Of course, it took time. Her hair was past her elbows and they were bringing it up to her chin. Ren’s work was thorough, taking it up in two stages. First, to her shoulders, then to her chin. It was… strange, to feel the weight on her head shift as her hair fell in great swaths onto the floor, around the chair upon which she sat.

They didn’t speak. It felt… wrong, somehow, to break the silence of such a solemn time. The noises of the school drifted toward them through the door, the noises of people who passed them by as they went to their own dorms. The team was located with the fourth-year students, and so they weren’t around, very much.

In took over an hour, with Ren working through her curls to keep the layers, while also working to keep the curls. Blake felt a shift, heard a hum, and she grimaced against a cramp in her thigh from how long she’d been bouncing her leg in anxiety.

Then, “Done.” Ren’s voice was soft, a little nervous. “Would you like to see?”

Blake nodded. She stood, on shaky legs, and kept her head down to avoid the hair on the floor. Then, she was in front of the mirror. She lifted her head.

A sharp gasp slipped from Blake’s lips. She blinked at the sudden tears in her eyes and lifted one hand to cover her mouth. She blinked away the tears, though some of them slipped down her face, regardless. Her vision cleared. She stared at herself.

Her hair fell in gentle, sweeping curls to just below her chin. Her bangs had been trimmed, though were largely untouched, just like the two swoops of hair on either side of her face. The long, spiral curl on either side of her head, near her ears, had been trimmed to the same length as the rest of her hair, but both curls stood out sharply from the rest of her hair. She reached up, fingers trembling, and brushed the ends of her hair. Crisp, but not blunt. He’d cut her hair into layers, letting her curls fill out until her hair looked fuller than it had, before.

“Oh,” said Blake, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Little tufts of hair grew against her ears. Fur, not hair, technically. Her ears looked bigger, without her hair to contrast them, and without the weight of her hair, she could see the starts of white fur growing in the shells of her cat ears.

“Is it all right?” asked Ren. The fear in his voice barely registered against the roaring in her ears.

There were no harsh lines. No squares. No sharp angles. She’d feared that having such short hair would bring attention to the angles of her face that she loathed. But she saw none of them. In fact, the person that stared back at her looked more feminine, more _her_ than she ever had been.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. She pressed her palm tight to her mouth to keep herself from sobbing. Tears gathered and fell, making wet tracks down her face. “It’s so perfect. Thank you, Ren.”

Ren smiled, shy. She could see him in the reflection. She spun and, without another thought, threw herself into his arms. He stumbled back a step and then hugged her back, one hand cupping the back of her head.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered. He stroked his fingers through her hair and she couldn’t help the low purr that slid from her throat. But Ren didn’t laugh at the noise, like she feared most would. Instead, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a gesture she hadn’t felt since she’d left her parents in Mistral, and held her close while she trembled from her new reality.

Her hair was short. And she was beautiful.

And she was free.

* * *

Oscar sat cross-legged in front of a mirror, hiding away in one of the study rooms that were littered throughout the dorms. His Scroll was on silent, but he’d seen texts coming in from Nora, Ruby, and Jaune, in the last half hour. Nothing frantic, as far as he could tell, but he wasn’t paying a lot of attention.

Instead, he was focusing on the mirror, on his reflection, and on his eyes.

“Where are you?” he asked, his voice low, soft. He tried to delve into the corner of his mind that Ozpin had disappeared into, but came up empty. It was as if that spot didn’t exist. As if Ozpin had never been in his head. If not for everything else, he could have believed it.

But his head was full of memories that weren’t his. And his aura pulsated with power that tasted aged and bitter on his tongue. And his eyes weren’t quite the right colour, anymore. He wasn’t the boy he’d been, back on the farm. But he wasn’t _just_ Ozpin’s vessel, either.

He was somewhere in the middle, his own person, but still a bridge. It required a balance he couldn’t find. He was falling, breaking, and the only person who could catch him was missing.

“You left us,” said Oscar. He hugged his knees and stared at his reflection, trying not to focus on the tears in his eyes. “You left _me._ ” He took a deep breath. “You left because you thought we were better off without you. You were scared and you were hurting and you _left._ ” He remembered the way his head had torn in two, during Jinn’s flashback. He remembered watching everything, unable to control his body. He remembered the way Ozpin’s screams and sobs of despair had torn into his very soul, leaving him shaking as Ozpin vanished into the depths of his mind.

“You’re a coward,” whispered Oscar, his voice hoarse. “You’re a coward, you know that? I’m stuck with memories that aren’t mine and I don’t know what to do with them.” He blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. “Am I losing my mind? Am I going to be absorbed into you? Am I going to disappear?”

He scrubbed a palm over one of his eyes, sniffling. Gods, why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just shove all of this aside? Why did he have to be some kind of stupid chosen one for an immortal being who didn’t even want to be alive?

It was hard. It was so damn hard. He had a nigh suicidal immortal being in the back of his head, hidden away, and even though Ozpin was in hiding, those emotions still bled through. It was fighting something that he couldn’t medicate or meditate away. He was trapped with those emotions and memories, and without Ozpin awake to talk to, Oscar had no idea how to make it go away.

“Please come back,” whispered Oscar, staring at his feet, now. “Ironwood isn’t mad. No one is. We’re all working with the truth we have. We’re all trying. No one’s going to hurt you again, not on purpose.” He didn’t know if that was true, but he wanted it to be true. A few tears rolled down his cheeks. “I need you. I need you so I don’t lose myself. I need you to tell me how to survive being part of you for the rest of my life.”

Nothing.

Oscar closed his eyes.

_“Daddy, Daddy!” She runs forward, pouting. Iris. She cuddles her dog toy close, but it’s missing an eye. “He lost an eye. Can you help me?”_

_He—they—_ you. _You lean down and take the toy from her, rolling it over in your hands. “Well, I think I can do that,” you say. With a snap of your fingers, the eye reforms in place, glowing for a moment. “There you are, darling.”_

_She giggles. “Thank you, Daddy.” She rushes off, the dog over her head, whooping all the way. Her sisters watch, and they smile at you._

Oscar blinked.

_“They had names.”_ The voice whispered across the room, brushing Oscar’s ears. They had names. The four girls had names. And he had one. Iris. The little girl with the dog.

“Ozpin?” he whispered. But the voice didn’t respond again. Oscar exhaled, soft and frustrated. “Okay. I don’t understand, but okay.” Was Ozpin trying to tell him something? Were they staying silent as a point? He didn’t know, anymore. But maybe this was the first part of helping. Maybe the names were a clue.

“Iris,” he whispered, and, in that moment, the weight on his chest lessened, just a little, but enough to feel. He exhaled, slow. “Thank you. She’s beautiful.”

His eyes twinkled for just a moment, in his reflection, and Oscar caught himself smiling at that. Baby steps, he told himself. Baby steps. They would need Ozpin, sooner or later, but he would do this properly.

He was scared, and he was angry, but throwing that at Ozpin wouldn’t help. He _wanted_ help, and he wanted _to_ help. Those were the things he needed to hold on to. Regardless of anything else.

* * *

Ruby sat behind Weiss, legs crossed under the blankets of the bed while she braided Weiss’ hair with quick, deft movements. Weiss wanted to crown braid her hair, something Ruby had helped Yang with plenty of times in the past, because Yang liked to crown braid her hair for swimming.

“I think it’s gonna look great,” said Ruby. Weiss sat on a pillow on the floor, her head tilted slightly back and her eyes closed. She hummed, on occasion, her ears dusted pink and her lips parted. It was the most relaxed Ruby had seen her since Beacon.

“I hope so,” said Weiss. “My hair is so long now. It gets in the way when I fight.”

Ruby giggled. “I wouldn’t know.” She flipped her bangs out of her ears. “Ugh, but I definitely need a haircut. It’s getting a little ridiculous.”

Weiss snorted. “Says the girl with the shortest hair on the team.”

“And you’re, what, Rapunzel?” asked Ruby, rolling her eyes. She wiggled Weiss’ hair in her hands. “Seriously, if I let your hair down, it goes passed your _butt_. It almost hits your knees!”

Weiss’ cheeks flushed. “It’s not _that_ big of a deal, Ruby. My hair is mine.”

“How come you’ve never cut it?” asked Ruby, wiggling from side to side as she worked the braid around Weiss’ head, braiding it against the scalp and pinning it in place with pins she’d hooked into her Atlas pyjamas. They were so cozy that Ruby hated changing out of them if she didn’t need to leave the dorms. Plus, she loved how warm they were.

“I wasn’t allowed,” said Weiss. Ruby nudged her head and Weiss tilted it, humming. “My father believed in the traditions of Atlas, such as the strict adherence to gender norms that we are often known for. Because of that, I wasn’t allowed to cut my hair.” Weiss hesitated a moment, and Ruby’s hands hesitated with her. “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ cut my hair, apart from having the ends cleaned.”

“Wow,” whispered Ruby. “Even Yang has had haircuts.” She thought of Yang’s hair, and how it only reached midback, now. She’d cut it during the time Ruby had been gone, or else Dad had. She didn’t know why. Yang didn’t talk about it. Ruby didn’t ask. It felt… heavy, to acknowledge what had happened when they were apart, and the ways Yang had fallen apart when she’d been trapped in her trauma and depression.

Ruby said, “You know, you _can_ get a haircut, now. Your dad might be in Atlas, but he doesn’t control you. If you wanna cut all your hair off, you can.”

Weiss was silent for a long minute and Ruby worried that she’d said something wrong. Was Weiss as partial to her hair as Yang was? It didn’t feel like it, but Ruby sometimes had a hard time reading Weiss. Weiss liked to hide her emotions. And she was very good at it.

“You’re right,” said Weiss, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’ve never thought about it before, but I can do anything I want with my hair and my clothes now. If I wanted to shave my head and wear suits for the rest of my life, he can’t stop me.” There was a giddiness to her voice, almost a mania, that had Ruby worrying. Weiss never did do anything halfway.

Ruby finished the braid and hooked it in place. “Ta-da, all done,” said Ruby. She scooted back. “And you could, your hair will grow back.” Ruby shrugged. “But don’t be hasty just because you can be.”

Weiss snorted and got to her feet. “You? Telling someone not to be hasty?” She turned and put her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. Ruby shrugged, sheepish.

“Your hair looks great,” said Ruby.

“Obviously,” said Weiss, flicking her head as if to flip her hair, though she couldn’t. “You did it, didn’t you?”

Ruby blushed. “Aww, thanks.” She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “I just… I dunno. It feels like going totally opposite to what someone made you do is just trying to get back at them, you know? You’re doing it because of them, instead of for you. Does that make sense?”

Weiss sat down on the bed and nodded, her fingers reaching up to skim the braid. “It does. Thank you. I’ll be sure to put thought into it, Ruby. If I’m going to cut my hair, I’m doing it for me.”

“Speaking of haircuts.” They both jumped as Ren leaned in the doorway, smiling at them both like he knew a secret they didn’t.

“Hey, Ren, what’s up?” asked Ruby, cocking her head to one side.

Weiss narrowed her eyes. “Your hair looks the same.”

“Mine does,” agreed Ren. He stepped into the room and stepped to one side, before nodding at the door. _“Hers_ , however, does not.”

Blake came around the door and Ruby gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Her hair was at her chin, still beautifully curly and with the two large curls that had always hung separately, one on each side of her head, slightly longer and more prominent, as always. She smiled at them both, blushing furiously, clasping her hands together in front of her, head slightly ducked.

“Oh, Blake,” said Ruby. “You look so beautiful.” Ruby grabbed Weiss’ shoulders and grinned at her. “Weiss, tell Blake she looks beautiful.”

“Uh…” Weiss stared at Blake, mouth fallen open. She was beet red, her ears burning darkest, and she seemed to stumble. “You… you’re…” She swallowed, throat bobbing. “You look amazing, Blake. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” said Blake, ducking her head even further. She reached up and twirled one of the curls around one finger. “Ren did it for me.”

Ren nodded. “We had a nice chat. It was a lovely time.”

“Can you cut my hair?” asked Ruby, leaning further forward. Weiss nudged her, pushed, and Ruby yelped, falling face first off the bed. She landed on the floor and whined. “Ooow, my face.” Weiss snickered. “Weiss! Why must you hurt me this way?”

“The opportunity was there,” said Weiss. When Ruby rolled onto her back to stare up at Weiss in dismay, Weiss shrugged and smiled at her, obviously fighting a laugh. Blake giggled and Ren let out a quiet chuckle, as well. “I agree with Ruby, Ren. You do amazing work.” She looked at Blake and her smile softened. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

Blake turned scarlet. “Thank you,” she mumbled. She shuffled into the room and looked down at Ruby, her brow furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“I am betrayed by my greatest ally,” said Ruby, throwing her hands and feet into the air. “Betrayed, I say!”

“You’re an overdramatic dolt with no concept of personal space or _balance_ ,” said Weiss.

Ruby sat up and grinned at Weiss. “And you love me.”

Weiss sighed. “And I love you,” she agreed. “You almost make Atlas _tolerable._ ” She rolled her eyes, before looking to Blake. “What brought on this change?”

Blake twirled her hair against a finger and hummed. “I wanted a change.” She sat down on the bed, next to Weiss. “I felt like it was time to let go. A lot of weight has come off recently, and I wanted to… focus on that.” She let out a quiet sigh. “I’m free, Weiss.” She fiddled with her hands in her lap. “I want to see that freedom in the mirror.”

Weiss laid a hand atop Blake’s and smiled at her. “I think that’s a great reason.”

“Agreed!” said Ruby. Then, looking at Ren, “Seriously though, can you cut my hair, too?”

Ren nodded. “Nora wants me to trim her hair, tonight, and Jaune wants a haircut as well. But I am free afterward.”

Ruby pumped a fist into the air. “Woo!”

“Jaune’s getting a haircut?” asked Weiss, wrinkling her nose. “To what?”

Ren shrugged. “I don’t know, but I should go before he gets back. Take care.” He smiled at Blake. “I’m glad you like your haircut.”

She smiled in return. “Thank you, Ren.”

“You’re welcome.” With that, he was gone, shutting the door behind him. Ruby took the opportunity to leap up onto the bed, on Blake’s other side, and pull her into a sideways hug, nuzzling her shoulder with her cheek.

“Oh, you look so good. I love it so much,” she said, grinning. “This is so great. We’re getting our hair done, we’re upgrading our weapons, we’re getting new hunting outfits. We’re going to be the nicest looking team in Atlas!” She threw her arms into the air and her knuckles rapped against the upper bunk. “Ouch.” She rubbed her knuckles. “Noooo, why?”

Weiss and Blake both giggled.

Before anyone could say anything else, the door opened, and Yang appeared.

“Yang,” said Ruby, leaping to her feet and spinning around to gesture at Blake. “Look how good Blake looks!”

Yang paused, staring at Blake for a long moment. Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide, her cheeks flushing pink. It reminded Ruby of how Weiss had looked at Blake, but Ruby knew Yang meant it differently. She fought the urge to wiggle her eyebrows at her sister.

“You uh, you look great,” said Yang, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. “Really great.”

Blake played with her hair, tucking a strand behind one of her human ears. “Oh? T-thank you.”

“Yeah,” said Yang. She shuffled across the room and sat down next to Blake. “It looks good—great. Fantastic. Yeah. You look really nice with short hair.”

Weiss narrowed her eyes at them both. Ruby grinned. _So cute._

“This is gonna be great,” said Ruby, flopping onto the bed next to Weiss. The mattress shifted with her and everyone wobbled a bit. “We look great, we’re back together, we’re one whole team instead of two. And we’ve got a whole army to help us. We can do anything!”

There was still fear, there was still tension. But Ruby shoved it all aside. Her teammates were alive and happy, everyone was figuring out how to heal, and they had some time to sort everything out. She’d figure out about Penny, and Uncle Qrow, and her cape later. Everything would come back, like it always did. All her anxiety always came back.

But she was focusing on the good, right now. For as long as she could.

“Team RRAYNBOW is almost ready for action,” said Yang.

“Yeah!” the others agreed, and they dissolved into laugher, falling back on the bed as one. Ruby sighed, content.

Yeah, they could do anything. As long as they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are deeply appreciated, no matter how long or short. Thank you for reading!


	9. Landing Strategies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh... surprise?
> 
> The entire first bit is just me drooling over my own ideas for V7 outfit redesigns. I can't draw. So you get this instead. Then we get into my own interpretation of episode 3! We're starting to veer outside of V7 territory, with episode 3 and 4 still having their basic plots, albeit differently in many ways, before we swing hard and go off into la-la land, so to speak.
> 
> Also, Winter is trans now, because I was getting harassed a shit ton about trans headcanons. So that means I'm putting in another one _out of spite_.
> 
> As a note: Ozpin uses _they/them_ pronouns in this fic. Please be respectful and use said pronouns in your comments. Just because it's not canon to RWBY doesn't mean it's not canon to this story. You're reading a fic full of headcanons made by a trans/non-binary author. Please be respectful of them. Thank you.

Ruby, Nora, and Jaune joined Blake in haircut land, while Yang, Weiss, and Ren simply restyled their hair. Jaune’s hair was shorter, spiker, Ruby styled hers after anime characters she loved, and Nora trimmed back to her old haircut at Beacon. Ren braided his hair, Weiss crown braided her hair, and Yang wore a ponytail, not unlike the ponytail Dad had done for her, before Ruby had left for Mistral.

At the end of the week, it was time to get new outfits. Dr. Polendina gave them the cases with all their new clothes and everyone dressed. Ruby changed, quickly, and waited for everyone else in the common area of the labs. There were tons of changing rooms, and she was excited to see what everyone else looked like.

Ruby had upgraded to a skort, a corset-lookalike, and a thick long-sleeved shirt with thermal stitching (which, in Atlas, meant tiny bits of fire Dust woven into the fabric) underneath. She wore long, heavy duty, fingerless gloves, a choker, and an ammo belt across her hips, crooked. Her boots were tall, just passed her knees, and the soles were thick and grippy for the ice. Her leggings were equally thick, also meant for the cold. The only thing she hadn’t changed was her cape. She wanted Uncle Qrow to fix it for her, and she refused to part ways with it. It’d been with her for too long.

Ruby bounced up and down in the common room, waiting for her team. Yang appeared first. She’d changed into a tan jumpsuit with zippers around the thighs, for venting, and a belt wrapped around one leg. The jumpsuit was long-sleeved, and she wore a cut-off bomber jacket overtop, the hood lined with fluffy fur. Her orange bandana was back, around her neck, and she had a purple one around one leg, above her heavy-duty boots. Her hair, like before, was in a ponytail.

“Aw, Yang, you look great,” said Ruby, bouncing up and down. “I love your belt.” It wrapped around her waist, her emblem in the centre, with extra pieces on the sides against her hips.

“Thanks,” said Yang. She pulled a pair of aviators out of the jacket and put them on. “Ready to go.”

Weiss appeared next. She wore… layers. Layered skirts, a layered dress, layered belts, a layered jacket-shawl _thing_ that Ruby thought was very pretty. Tall, wedge boots, long black gloves, and white leggings. There were red fire Dust crystals all over her outfit. Her crown braid looked great, and Ruby had worked her little hair-crown-accessory-thing – which also had fire Dust in it – into the left side of the crown braid.

“Damn, Weiss, don’t you look fancy?” said Yang, putting her hands on her hips. She let out a low whistle. “Hell yeah.”

Weiss blushed. “I’ll have you know that my outfit is based on Specialist outfits.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked away.

Yang rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t joking, but okay.”

Blake was the last to appear. Ruby fell silent as she watched Blake enter. With her short, curly hair, the contrast between her old outfit and her new outfit was even greater. She wore a sleeveless black catsuit with black boots zipped over top of them, going almost to her knees. Her gloves were also fingerless, their colour a pale grey. Atop the catsuit she wore a white jacket similar to her old one, but built for winter. It was a greatcoat, long and hanging near her calves, zipped up from the waist to her collarbone. The sleeves hung loose, not as loose as robes, but similar, revealing a long-sleeved undershirt she wore beneath her catsuit, also a dark grey. The ends of the sleeves and the high collar of her jacket were lined with black fur. It reminded Ruby of Blake’s dad’s greatcoat, in Mistral. She’d ditched the purple eyeliner, as well, shifting it for a smokier purple colour.

“Ta-da,” said Blake, spreading her hands. “How do I look?” She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “Is it okay?”

“Wow,” said Yang, softly.

“Wow is right,” said Ruby, throwing her hands into the air. “You look amazing! Gosh that looks so warm. Is it real fur?” She tilted her head. “Is that, like, okay for you to wear?”

Blake giggled. “Yes, Ruby, it is. Mantle uses the whole animal when they hunt in Solitas. I requested fur from one of their shops for my coat.”

“You look…” Weiss hesitated a moment. Then, “You look like _you,_ if that makes sense.” She rubbed a spot under her nose. “More like you than I’ve ever seen you.”

“Yeah,” said Yang. “You look free, Blake. Like you could conquer the world.” She flexed her new prosthetic, grinning. Her cheeks and ears were bright red. “I guess everything is looking up. Outfits included.” She flashed a thumb’s up to Blake.

Blake blushed. “Thanks, everyone. I’m really glad you like it. You all… look great too.” She smiled, soft and shy. “Really, really good.”

“Aww, thanks Blake,” said Ruby, rubbing the back of her neck. She let out a little laugh. “Now we just need to wait for the others!”

“Well, you don’t have to wait any longer!” said Nora, bursting into the room. “Ta-da!” Nora wore a black tank top and skirt under her main outfit, with white leggings disappearing into the skirt and into her short, dark blue boots. Atop the black, she wore a dress coloured blue, pink, and white (it was definitely a trans flag turned sideways, which was awesome), with heart cut-outs and a belt around the waist. Beneath the tank top and dress, she wore a white, long-sleeved under shirt. There were cuffs across the outfit with wings and her symbol, and her dark blue gloves were fingerless, like everyone else’s. She also had a pair of goggles on her head, tinted slightly blue.

“Ah, Nora, you look so cool,” said Ruby, rushing up to Nora. “What are the goggles for?”

Nora flicked her nose sideways with her thumb, grinning toothily. “For going fast, of course!”

“So cool,” said Ruby, curling her hands into fists beneath her chin, eyes sparkling.

They both stepped aside as Jaune cleared his throat and shuffled into the room. His outfit wasn’t hugely different, but it was enough to make Ruby look him over to double check differences. His short-sleeved hoodie had been swapped out for a long-sleeved, thermal sweater with a high collar and a detachable hood, with his armour perfectly mirrored on both sides. His pants had been swapped to Specialist pants, the red scarf of Pyrrha’s still wrapped around his waist, beneath a belt that strapped also to his leg. It had a guard on the other side. His boots looked sturdy, too. His hair was still the most different part.

“You look great, Jaune,” said Ruby.

Yang hummed and tapped her chin. “You look like a Specialist. Except, you know, cuter.” She shrugged.

Jaune blushed.

Nora snorted. “Elm is _way_ hotter than Jaune,” she said, waving with one hand. Then, looking at Jaune. “He is pretty cute though.”

Jaune’s blush darkened. He rubbed a hand through his new haircut and smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

“That just leaves Ren,” said Oscar, ducking under Jaune’s arm as he came into the room. “I just got new clothes, and I planned for the cold, so I’m fine.” He smiled as he looked around the room. “You guys all look great. We all look ready for the cold.”

“We do.” At Ren’s voice, everyone turned, and Ruby broke into a wide smile when she saw how he looked. Last she saw, he’d been wearing a regular braid down his back, but he’d changed it since then. Now, his hair was braided around his head, so it hung over one shoulder, behind one ear.

The long tails of Ren’s shirt remained, now also curling forward against the sides of his legs. Like Yang’s old butt skirt, but fuller, longer, and covering a lot more. He’d swapped out his old gloves to wear a white, long-sleeved undershirt beneath the sleeveless green shirt he wore, covered in its gold filigree. On one arm, he wore a long, fingerless glove that came up to his armpit. On the other, he wore an arm guard built into the glove, half pink, half the brown-grey-pink of the other glove. It was strapped to him across the chest, by a clasp that looked like his emblem. His father’s knife rested upon the guard in its sheath. His boots had been swapped out for proper winter boots, with his emblem built into the top. Pink tassels hung from his shirt, holding his weapon.

There were a lot of words Ruby wanted to use to describe Ren, but none seemed appropriate. He looked softer, pinker, but also more prepared for the weather.

“You look…,” started Ruby, unsure how to continue.

“Beautiful,” said Jaune, his voice soft and awed. “You look really beautiful, Ren.”

Ren smiled, his cheeks pink. He ducked his head, but his gaze flicked up to Jaune, looking at him through his eyelashes. “Thank you.”

“You do,” said Yang. “Man, I think you look the prettiest out of all of us.” She threw an arm around Weiss’ shoulders and chuckled. “How does it feel, Weiss, being only the _second_ prettiest member of Team RRAYNBOW?”

Weiss folded her arms over her chest and huffed, but she was smiling all the same. “I think it’s better than _least_.” She threw a smirk over her shoulder at Yang, who scoffed.

“Hey! I’m so prettier than _Jaune_.” Yang waved a hand at Jaune. “Look at him. He’s _Jaune._ ”

“Hey!” protested Jaune. “I know I’m not gorgeous, but I’m not the worst out of us.”

“Then who is?” asked Nora, putting her hands on her hips. All eyes turned to Jaune. He let out a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Maybe we should get on topic,” said Jaune. “Don’t we have a mission to prep for?”

Ruby patted him on the shoulder. “Nice save.”

He sighed and slumped. “Thanks.”

“He’s right,” said Ruby, turning to look at them all. “We’re all dressed and ready to go. It’s time we get Clover to prep us on this mission. Come on, team. Let’s go!” She pumped a fist into the air, then froze. “Oh, Oscar, here.” She pulled the lamp from her waist and handed it to him. “I shouldn’t be running around with this is a mission. You can keep it safe while we’re gone.”

“I won’t let you down, Ruby,” said Oscar, holding it close.

Ruby grinned. “I know.” Then, “Okay, let’s go!” She hurried out of the room. The others all followed, chatting away. There were compliments, teasing jokes, and other things tossed between them all.

* * *

The mission was simple. They were to go with the Ace-Ops, split into three teams, and capture the old, fallen mining cave. There was a Geist in the caves, drawing other Grimm, and there was plenty of Dust still left in the mines, having been abandoned after an explosion that killed many of the faunus workers. Soldiers had already died trying to take the cave, so now it was time for them all to step in.

Ruby wished they could have stepped in earlier. She didn’t want people to die. It made her heart hurt and her whole body feel heavy.

As they were loading up the three ships, there was a commotion near the bay doors.

“Hey, you can’t be in here,” said one of the soldiers.

“Yeah, I can. Now back the hell off,” said a voice that was too familiar for Ruby to mistake it for anyone else. _Uncle Qrow._ She watched as he came around a few ships, shoving away a soldier who tried to stop him. “I’m supposed to be here. I’ve got my damn ID updated, now fuck off before I _make you._ ”

“Uncle Qrow!” Ruby waved as Uncle Qrow stepped forward. He paused in front of her, wobbling slightly. His skin was pale, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, but otherwise, he looked good. Better than he had when they’d left Argus, if a little sickly looking.

He was also wearing a new outfit. A pair of dark pants that fit far better than his old ones, plus a complicated shirt and vest combo. Like the others, he wore a thermal, long-sleeved undershirt and fingerless gloves, but his undershirt was grey and his gloves were black. His cape was hooked into the shirt, beneath the vest, and his necklace was gone. He also wore boots, like the rest of them, his pants tucked into their tops.

The symbols on the shirt were what got Ruby though. They were his – the feather and the gear – but they were also the General’s. The brilliant filigree that marked General Ironwood’s guns and cuffs. It was quiet, but there all the same.

“Hey, kiddo,” said Uncle Qrow, smiling at her. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” said Ruby, smiling back. “It’s good to see you.”

He ruffled her hair. “It’s good to see you, too.”

“Qrow,” said Clover, coming up next to Ruby. “What are you doing here? Are you all right to fight?”

Uncle Qrow reached up and flipped his hair out of his eyes with one hand. “If I remember right, you need someone to watch your back.” He flashed a crooked smile at Clover. “Or are you good enough that you don’t need a hand?”

Ruby looked back to see Clover grin.

Clover said, “I’m glad to have you. Come on, let’s head out.”

With Uncle Qrow at her side, Ruby followed Clover over to the ships. Uncle Qrow took a moment to say hi to Yang, then he and Clover headed into their own ship. Ruby followed Weiss, Blake, Yang, Harriet, and Marrow into one ship, while the others went in the third.

And then they were off for their first mission as Atlas hunters.

* * *

Qrow and Clover slid down the ice-capped side of the mountain and into the upper cave entrance. Qrow brushed himself off before resting a hand on the side of his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, using the cold air of the Solitas wilderness to recentre himself. His stomach churned, the plain contents of water and unsalted crackers roiling as they fought being tossed back into the world prematurely. A headache pulsed behind his eyes, pushing his vision out of focus every few minutes.

He wasn’t in any shape to fight. He knew that. He was being stupid, pushing himself like this, but he needed to get back in the field. Too long down and everyone would doubt his usefulness. They’d whisper behind his back, asking why he was here. They’d tell each other that he wasn’t worth having around.

They’d all abandon him, again.

“All right, let’s get going,” said Clover. The two moved into the cave and headed into the tunnels, the ice and rock immediately surrounding them.

There was silence for a few minutes, for which Qrow was grateful, both for his headache and his general awkwardness. He wasn’t sure how to deal with Clover, not after everything Clover had seen, and his head was pounding despite the painkillers he’d taken hours before.

Clover spoke on the comms a few times, but never to Qrow. Qrow mostly tuned him out.

“I have to admit, I was surprised when I saw you in the hanger,” said Clover, breaking their silence after almost twenty minutes. He had his thumbs stuffed in the belt loops of his pants, the picture of ease. Qrow’s hands lingered at his sides, gaze darting around and head cocked slightly to listen to the way the breeze flowed through the caves. As a bird, his spatial sense was better, but even in his natural form, he knew it was better than most people. There were cracks in the cave that flowed all the way to the surface. Air pockets. Natural? They seemed uneven enough to be natural, but it seemed strange to him that they existed at all.

But then, some Grimm were that small. Maybe they’d burrowed in through the rocks, hiding in the depths. Geists didn’t go that thin, but others did. Grimm that were a lot more dangerous and a lot more twisted. Like the one he’d seen Cinder use on Amber.

“Yeah, well. Couldn’t exactly leave you alone,” said Qrow, his voice hoarser than he’d expected. He grimaced, wishing he’d brought water, but this wasn’t supposed to be a long mission. He’d be fine.

A whistle of air. Qrow turned, looking back toward the entrance of the cave, though they’d long turned away from it. He frowned, narrowing his eyes. The breeze was… _wrong_ for where they were in the mountain. It shouldn’t have been coming from so deep. It should have been coming from the entrance and the air holes burrowed into the walls. But it wasn’t. It was coming from much deeper. Faint enough that only the hairs at the back of his neck rose a fraction. “Do you have this whole cave mapped out?”

Clover nodded. “We think so, why?” He’d paused with Qrow and looked from Qrow to back toward the mouth of the cave. “Am I missing something?”

“Yeah,” said Qrow. He turned back toward the cave, proper, and followed the tunnels. Clover hurried to catch up. “I think so.”

“What?” asked Clover. “The mines are well documented. The entire blueprint should be accurate.”

“Accurate to what it was, not what it _is_ ,” replied Qrow. “When did the mines shut down?”

Clover blinked a few times, staring at Qrow with wide eyes. Qrow raised an eyebrow at him and Clover cleared his throat.

“Uh, to my knowledge, about… four and a half years ago? The accident triggered a massive movement in the faunus population of Mantle, so that’s usually how I remember the date.”

Qrow nodded. “If the cave-in changed what we can access, who says it didn’t open up tunnels we didn’t know about?”

Clover blinked again. “Huh. That’s… a good point.”

Qrow cocked his head. “Comm the others. Ask ‘em. See if anyone is having discrepancies.” He crouched down and saw claw marks on the ground. Hard grooves that dug through both rock and ice. “See if they have any claw marks, too.” He ran his fingers across the grooves. Too thin to be Sabyr, too deep to be Centinel. Hmm.

“Sure,” said Clover. He tapped his earpiece. Qrow heard his voice both in his earpiece and out loud. “This is Alpha. We’re picking up discrepancies in the layout. Anyone else finding cave-ins or new tunnels they weren’t expecting?”

_“Bravo here,”_ came Harriet’s voice. _“We had a cave-in, but we got around it. I’m not sure what you mean by new tunnels. Layout seems pretty solid to me.”_

Qrow hummed, running his fingers through the grooves. There were more, in the walls, now. Thinner, shallower. He tapped his earpiece. “Be on the lookout for Centinels. There’s fresh markings up here, Looks like a whole pod of them.”

_“Roger that,”_ said Harriet. _“Bravo out.”_

“Centinels?” asked Clover, as Qrow drew himself back to his feet. “You spend a lot of time in Atlas?”

Qrow shook his head. “Not really,” he said, “but I know enough about Solitas based Grimm to keep an eye out for ‘em. In a closed space like this, Centinels would be a nightmare. Burrowing Grimm are easier out in the field, but they can make full use of the 3D space in the caves.”

Clover nodded. He gestured for Qrow to follow him and Qrow did, still scanning the walls. There were other marks that Qrow couldn’t make sense of. Knicks that should have been covered up from years of neglect. Unless people had recently been in the caves.

“Makes sense,” said Clover. “Hey, uh—”

“Has anyone been in the caves?” asked Qrow. “I missed the debriefing.” He touched the marks on the wall. Scorch marks, like from the backfire of a weapon. By the looks of it, something like an old gun. Maybe something more manual than most hunters were used to. He frowned. Way too old school to be the kind of weapons that Specialists were running around with. “Looks like someone beat us here.”

“Uh…” Clover faltered, blinking. “Not to my knowledge, no. And how would they manage that?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is a military operation. Everything outside the caves is controlled. We’ve got lookouts, military personnel, the works. No one’s getting in here without us seeing them.”

“Or a hell of a semblance,” said Qrow, casting a look at Clover. Clover furrowed his brow, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Lot of weird ass semblances out there, kid. The question is, who could manage something like this and still have weapons this old school?” He rapped his knuckles against the scorch marks, before continuing on.

“They’d die. Without equipment or comms or support, there’s no way they’d be able to get out, especially not with the target still active, and especially not without us seeing them,” said Clover. “And I’m not a kid.”

Qrow snorted. “Sure. “Then, “There’s a lot of Dust in here, right?”

Clover nodded, catching up to him again. “Tons.”

“That’s worth dying for, don’t you think?” He raised both eyebrows. “Desperate people die for a lot less, all the time. Don’t suppose Atlas still registers semblances?”

“We stopped when General Ironwood took over,” said Clover. “He said it was a gross misuse of military technology and an extreme invasion of privacy. Only military personnel have their semblances registered, and that’s only for mission purposes. It’s top secret.”

Qrow hummed. “Yeah, ethics and all that. Makes sense. Was useful shit, back in the day, but fuck if it wasn’t creepy.” And he didn’t exactly like the idea of people being able to type his name into a database and know all his secrets, if they had the right level of clearance. He’d never been Atlesian in any capacity, not in the way that would get him into those sorts of databases, but even the thought of it was enough to make his skin crawl.

“Back in the day?” echoed Clover. He let out a quiet laugh. “You’re not _that_ old.”

“Way older than you, kiddo,” replied Qrow, smirking at him.

Clover huffed and folded his arms, a gesture so childlike that Qrow snorted. “I just turned _thirty,_ thank you.” He made a face. “Ugh.”

“Call me when you hit forty, then you can complain,” replied Qrow, with a quiet chuckle. “You’re older than I thought you were.” He paused, touching the wall. The wind had changed again. A prickle crept up the back of his neck. His semblance, whispering at things that could go wrong, up ahead. He let himself stay still for a minute, not wanting to chance it. Maybe it’d go away on his own. His head pulsed behind his eyes and his mouth tasted of bile. He grimaced. Fuck, not his idea of a good time.

“I’ve got one of those faces,” said Clover. “Gotta say, it’s really damn cool watching you work. I never thought I’d get a chance to see what you’re capable of.”

Qrow raised an eyebrow. “Because of the videos James had you watch of me?”

Oddly enough, Clover flushed scarlet at those words. He let out a quiet chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh… I’d already seen most of them. I mean, not the classified ones, of course.”

“Of course,” echoed Qrow, though he had no idea what Clover was talking about. What the hell was going on?

“But uh, I’m kind of a huge fan of yours,” said Clover, flashing him an awkward smile. Qrow blinked. Then he blinked again. Then he stuck a finger in his ear because there was no way he’d just heard what he’d heard. Clover had _not_ just said that.

“What? I’m sorry, it sounded like you said you were a fan of mine,” said Qrow.

Clover let out an awkward chuckle, his ears as red as his face. “I mean, I am.” He shrugged. “When I was in my first year as a Specialist, you know, about eight years ago.” Qrow snorted. That was _nothing._ “We were out on a mission in Solitas dealing with a pair of Megagoliaths and a Teryx. We couldn’t get a hold of them. Couldn’t stop them.” Qrow blinked. _Wait a second._ “Then you showed up. You came out of _nowhere_ , took out the Teryx, and drove the bones of it so deep into one of the Megagoliath that you killed it. We managed to take on the other one, but if you hadn’t shown up, we would have died.”

Qrow nodded, slow, as Clover finished speaking. “I remember that,” he said. And he did. Not the people, not the faces. He remembered the monsters. The rage he’d felt. It was just after he’d come to Atlas to help James with something, only to run almost face-first into Jacques Schnee. Eight years ago, Winter had been a student at Atas Academy, and even though Qrow couldn’t stand her even then, watching the way Jacques had treated her had set his teeth on edge.

He’d wanted to hurt something. So, he’d found something to hurt.

“Didn’t know that was you,” said Qrow, voice low.

Clover shrugged. “Ah, I didn’t expect you to. I mean, I bet you do stuff like that all the time.” He was grinning. Qrow looked at his feet, cheeks warm. Well, he really was going to let this guy down, wasn’t he? “But, I’ve never forgotten that. That’s sort of what made me wanna be who I am today. I knew I could never be you, but I wanted to be a hero. Someone who could fight for justice and save the innocent. That drive is what made me the founder of the Ace-Ops, and it’s part of why General Ironwood trusts me so much.”

Clover’s grin was so brilliant it felt like they were above ground. He reminded Qrow a little of Ruby, grinning at him like that. Hard to believe the guy was as old as he claimed.

“So, it’s an honour to work with you, Qrow, even if only once,” said Clover.

Qrow let out a huff. “And you didn’t tell me this before because…?”

“I… already fucked up once and didn’t wanna make it worse?” He said it like a question, and hell, maybe it was. The kids, teenagers that they were, were more put together than this ridiculous man standing next to him, with his frat boy haircut and sleeveless jacket. Aura might keep a person warm, but without layers, you burnt through aura faster. Maybe Clover really _was_ that much of a dumbass.

Qrow pinched the bridge of his nose. He was too old for this. And too queasy. And too fucking tired.

“The more I think about it, the more I realize we’re really… not suited to be partners,” said Clover, sounding sad. “As far as I can tell, you don’t exactly do the same sort of work as we do.”

Qrow snorted. “No shit.”

“But I can’t figure out what exactly it is that you _do_ ,” said Clover. He folded his arms and lifted one hand to rub at his chin. “General Ironwood said you were a kind of specialist, just not our sort of Specialist.”

Gods help him, Qrow could hear the fucking capital letters. Maybe it was the painkillers.

“Yeah, I’m…” Qrow hesitated. He tugged at the lapels of his shirt. It was weird, wearing such fancy clothing. And weirder still, not having his necklace. But Raven had given him that necklace. And he didn’t want to wear it anymore. Not with who she was, right now. Not with who they both were, these days. “A spy, I guess, if you wanna get technical.”

Clover let out a low whistle. “Really?” he asked, eyebrows raising. “ _Damn_. I guess it makes sense, knowing what I know about you, but I can’t say I’ve ever worked with a spy. Or, one that I know about, anyway.” He let out a quiet chuckle, almost self-deprecating. “Wouldn’t put it past me not to notice.”

So he _did_ know he was kind of a dumbass. Well, at least he was self-aware. That had to count for something.

“That is the point,” said Qrow, drily. He stumbled as he took another step forward, hands flying out to catch the wall. Clover caught him and helped him to his feet. Qrow grimaced.

“You okay?” asked Clover.

“Yeah,” said Qrow, tugging his fingers back through his hair.

“You sure? You’re still recovering and I wouldn’t—” Qrow swept his leg out, tripped Clover backward, and slammed him into a wall. One hand on Clover’s weapon, flipping out the hook to dig into Clover’s side, the other arm barring Clover’s throat. “ _Holy fuck_.”

“That say how I’m doing?” asked Qrow, his voice low. He glared at Clover, who gave a slow, wide-eyed nod. Qrow let him go. Clover coughed a few times and rubbed at his neck. “I’ll be fine. Let’s find this stupid Grimm.”

“Sure,” said Clover, sounding stunned. “Whatever you say, Qrow.”

Qrow grimaced. His head hurt even worse now. Vision swimming from his stupid stunt.

Well, _that_ didn’t sound promising. Stupid fucking hero worship.

* * *

Oscar worked the polishing rag up and down the cane – _his_ cane? – and tried not to think too deeply about the thoughts-memories-sensations swirling behind his eyes. The taste of cinnamon, heavy on the back of his tongue. The sound of laughter, like bells, tinkling in his ears. A flash of silver, a flash of gold, a flash of red. Red. Red. Red.

“Oscar?” Oscar jumped at the quiet voice, his eyes wide and his grip tight on the/his cane. His head snapped up, mouth falling open to call for help, and he met General Ironwood’s gaze. The general offered him a small, sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” sad General Ironwood, voice gentle. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He gave a little smile and after a moment, Oscar found it in himself to return it. The weight of the lamp was heavy on his hip from where Ruby had given it to him, this morning. It called to him, whispering that there was one last question. That he could ask anything. He kept shaking it off. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Ozpin had hurt everyone enough, already. Oscar refused to be part of that pain. Even if he had questions. So many questions. About who he was, and who he’d be.

“It’s fine,” said Oscar, relaxing. He rested the cane across his knees. “What uh… what can I do for you?” He grimaced at how that sounded. It didn’t sound like him. It sounded like the voice in his head.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something,” said General Ironwood. “I wanted to help the others celebrate their first mission in Atlas, and I could use an extra set of hands.”

Oscar blinked and furrowed his brow. He got to his feet and tossed the polishing rag into the laundry pile. Collapsing the cane, he smiled at General Ironwood.

“Sure,” he said. “What did you want to do?”

As it turned out, General Ironwood wanted to bake a cake. He led Oscar down to the kitchens in Atlas Academy, which Oscar hadn’t realized were so fancy and extensive. The smaller kitchen in the dorms that Oscar had already seen were nothing compared to the ones that Oscar was currently staring at.

Polished chrome and stainless steel; smooth, black countertops atop white cabinets. More tools than he knew what to do with. Flashes of dark blue in small appliances, like a blender and a stand mixer. Industrial lights overhead. Cookbooks lining the wall not covered in counters.

“Wow. This place is… really fancy,” said Oscar.

“These are the private kitchens,” said General Ironwood, over his shoulder. “There are others, for the dorms, and there’s a much more industrial one built for cooking for the whole academy, but this one is typically used for classes or for private parties.” He flashed Oscar an easy smile. “I booked it out for today, so I could bake, uninterrupted.”

Oscar nodded. “You’re making them a cake?”

“Yes,” said General Ironwood, with a quiet chuckle. “You, as well, if you’d like. I’ll be flying out to give them their hunting licenses, once their mission is over. You’re welcome to come with me, join in on the fun. You are part of their team.”

Oscar let out a quiet sigh. “Can’t exactly get a hunting license, though,” he said. He walked over to General Ironwood and stood next to him, in front of the counters that were already laden with ingredients. It looked like he’d prepped before he’d come and gotten Oscar.

It was frustrating, being the youngest member of the team. Ruby was next, and she was seventeen, a full two and a half years older than he was. Oscar wouldn’t turn fifteen for another couple of months, not until early spring. Ruby’s birthday had just passed, while they were on the road, leaving Oscar in the dust.

“Actually, I was thinking about that,” said General Ironwood. He tugged off his left glove and set to work on the right one, his movements much slower and more precise with his right hand. Oscar wasn’t wearing his gloves, or even his hunting outfit. He’d changed into the Atlas Academy sweats they’d been given, as well as one of the zip-up hoodies, for the cold. He pushed up the sleeves and rolled them to keep them from falling back down.

Nothing in this school fit him. Ruby had offered to modify all the clothing, tailor it so it’d stop falling and he could stop rolling and folding everything. But she hadn’t had a chance yet.

“You’re not quite fifteen, but because the team includes you, and because most of the team is over eighteen, bar Ruby, I am technically allowed to give you a provisional license.” General Ironwood pulled off his right glove and folded them together, before moving to roll up his sleeves. Oscar blinked a few times, eyes growing wide at the general’s prosthetics.

General Ironwood looked at him, frowning, then winced. “Apologies, I thought you’d know, what with Ozpin…”

Oscar blinked. A flicker. A memory.

_“They’re not realistic, but they’re the best Atlas can offer,” James says, smiling at you. You nod, running your thumb over the metallic palm of James’ right hand. He is young, younger than you have ever felt, and has only just been made general. It will be several years before he is appointed headmaster._

_You will never tell him the hand you play in this appointment._

_He is bigger than you, in this lifetime. You were bigger, before, as king. You cannot smile, even though you want to. He seems worried._

_“Oz?”_

_“They suit you,” you say. You force yourself to give the barest smile. “I’m glad you’re alive, James. I would have missed you.”_

_“Likewise,” he replies._

_You take a breath. “About why I brought you here.”_

_“Yes?”_

_“…Tell me, what is your favourite fairy tale?”_

Oscar sucked in a sharp breath and jolted back from the counter, stumbling. A firm hand on his shoulders caught him before he tumbled backward. He blinked, images clearing from his head, and stared up at the General. At James.

The height difference was too great.

No, it was normal.

James was supposed to be that tall.

Oscar was supposed to be this short.

James? General Ironwood.

General Ironwood.

He exhaled.

“Yeah, I…” He cleared his throat. “I know about them. Sorry.” Jam—General Ironwood furrowed his brow at him. “Provisional license?” His voice cracked high on the question and he winced. Great. Fantastic. Brothers, he wished he was better at hiding his natural voice. He wanted it to be lower. He wanted it to be lower so, _so_ badly. Maybe hormones would help. Maybe not.

But he had to get the courage to ask, first.

“A provisional license would allow you to work with licensed hunters,” said General Ironwood. He smiled, though his brow remained furrowed. “Such as the rest of your team. As long as you’re with someone that isn’t Ruby, you’ll be allowed to hunt. Though, I would recommend attending classes, if you want. Just to learn some things.”

“I think that’s probably for the best,” said Oscar, voice soft. “So, uh, baking?” He winced. “I don’t… bake much.”

James chuckled. “I’ll help.” He showed Oscar the recipe, which was laminated, because of course it was, and they started measuring out ingredients and setting them into the stand mixer that was the same polished chrome and shiny dark blue metal as all the other appliances in the kitchen.

Oscar was scared to leave fingerprints on anything.

“You know,” said Oscar, as he watched General Ironwood crack eggs into the stand mixer. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person to bake.”

James chuckled and set down the shells before turning the mixer back on. “Well, I strive to surprise people, Oscar. I’m a man of many talents.”

Oscar leaned on the counter and handed General Ironwood the vanilla extract. “So it would seem,” he replied, smiling.

He blinked.

_“I can’t dance,” says Glynda, laughing like she’s never had a care in the world, and you laugh in return, spinning her around your office._

_“You lived in Atlas all your life. How can’t you dance?” you ask, a tone of indignance in your laughter._

_She rolls her eyes. It’s her first week on the job, but you feel you’ve known her for a century. She seems to feel the same. In all the time she’s helped you with your work, she’s always felt more like a friend than a co-worker. It scares you, because you’re not supposed to have friends anymore. They always end up hurt._

_“Not all Atlesians grew up on caviar and ballroom dancing,” she replies, chuckling. “We’re only metaphorically in the clouds, Oz. No matter what the uppity idiots say.”_

_“For now,” you agree, because you have an idea. “For now.”_

He blinked again. James is staring at him, a furrow in his brow.

“I’m fine,” mumbled Oscar, a hand over his forehead. “Just…” _not all here_ , he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. He didn’t need to worry everyone with how often he fell into the depths of his mind. “Why do you know how to bake, anyway? I thought Atlesians were all… banquets and ballroom dancing.”

General Ironwood’s eyebrows shot up. “Usually,” he agreed, sounding faraway and stunned. Oscar frowned. What? What had he done? James cleared his throat. “Actually, Ozpin taught me.”

Oscar blinked. “Really?”

“Really,” said General Ironwood, with a hum. He poured the batter into several pans and slid them into a preheated oven. Wow, Oscar had missed a lot. “I wanted to bake a cake for Winter, for her eighteenth birthday, but I had no clue what to do. I begged Oz for help, and since they were already in Atlas that weekend, they put in the time to teach me how to bake. It’s… I’ve always been very grateful for that weekend.”

Oscar nodded. “Because you learned something new?”

“Because I got to spend time with Ozpin,” said James. He closed the oven and smiled at Oscar. “I’ve always looked up to them. They’re an incredible hunter, well spoken, thoughtful. As a student, I wanted to be the sort of person I imagined Oz to be. While age has showed me that they were as flawed as anyone else, I always cared for them, both has a friend and colleague, as well as a mentor. Those times together showed me that we’re not only our jobs. That we can be people, beyond them. Baking has remained that reminder for me, even years later.”

“That’s… really cool,” said Oscar. He waited, tense, for the memory to overwhelm him, but when nothing came, he found himself frowning.

What triggered them?

“Would you like to learn how to make icing? You can lick the spoon,” said General Ironwood, a twinkle in his eye.

Oscar laughed. “Sure. Sounds good.”

* * *

_“This is Alpha, we’ve engaged the target!”_

Clover’s voice rang loud and clear as Qrow shot at the Geist. He fired at the mask, trying to puncture it as best he could. But the thing was too fast and too slippery, ducking and dodging the bullets like it was nothing.

“All squads, head for our position,” said Clover. He drew his weapon and flipped out the hook, swinging for the Geist. It came up short and slid through the incorporeal body as the Geist shot away. The hook hit the ground. “Damn it.”

“Aim for the mask,” said Qrow, gritting his teeth. He flipped Harbinger back up, ready to use it to defend. The Geist dove into a mass of ice and stone, already forming up a massive body. Clover dove forward and Qrow jerked forward with him, grabbing his wrist as the ceiling of the cave collapsed not far from the Geist. A massive hole opened up beneath it and Qrow yanked himself and Clover back before it took them out.

They tumbled to the ground, rolling.

Qrow winced as he pushed himself up, the Geist gone. “Ouch,” he muttered. Yup, he was gonna vomit before this was over. Hopefully not on his new clothes.

“Thanks,” said Clover. “Would have been crushed if it wasn’t for you,” he said, flashing Qrow a smile.

Qrow looked away. “Don’t count on it,” he muttered. “Just trying to even the playing field with my semblance.”

Clover pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself off. “What’s your semblance?” he asked, holding out his hand.

Qrow sighed. “I bring misfortune, wherever I go. I don’t… have a good hold on it, all the time.” He took Clover’s hand and let the man pull him to his feet. Clover held fast. Qrow frowned.

“Semblance or not, you just saved my ass,” said Clover. He flashed Qrow a smile. “And, you know, that’s kind of lucky, actually.” Qrow raised an eyebrow. “My semblance brings good fortune. Maybe, together, we’ll even the odds.” He released Qrow’s hand. “Come on, we can catch it.”

Qrow frowned, hand burning where Clover had touched it, but not in a pleasant way. In an awful, stinging way that threatened to overwhelm him.

_Good fortune._ Was that why James wanted Clover to watch him? To be his partner?

“Qrow! You coming?” Qrow sighed and ran after Clover, trying to shake the thoughts. He’d deal with this later, when they weren’t dealing with a pissed off Geist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this chapter, feel free to leave a comment! It's been a while, and I'm having fun getting back into Weight.


	10. The Ace Operatives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter that goes through a lot of the similar motions of the original plot, but takes its own twists and turns. This is pretty much the last chapter that will do that. A lot of stuff is changing from here on out.
> 
> Speaking of changes, you might notice a few things in the general information about this fic. I've added more tags and more ships, for starters. If you go back to chapter one, you'll see a note that explains a lot of these changes. If you don't want to go back, and you just want a summary, let me do so here:
> 
> _Weight_ was intended to simply be a V7 rewrite, but the further I got into plotting, the more I realized I wanted to keep going and not end on a cliffhanger, and the more I realized how deep this story went. So, it's not just a rewrite of V7 anymore. It's also a story that will go right to the end of the series and the war. I do not believe this is better than canon, I do not believe this should replace canon, and it's not even the only version of this story I have in my head, but I want to write my own version of the end of RWBY, and this is the story that won't let me leave it without that sort of ending.
> 
> To that end, we'll start seeing POVs that aren't in Atlas soon, such as the Vacuo crew and the garbage children. While you don't need to read _After the Fall_ to read _Weight_ , there will be some references (all explained) relating to the events of _ATF_. However, _Before the Dawn_ will not be considered canon in this universe, due to timelines and plotting. Though I might borrow semblances for SSN if I like them better than my own. We'll see.
> 
> Uhh... yeah. Poke back to chapter one to see more about ships and headcanons, because there's more there.
> 
> Also, because someone said they wanted more trans characters but didn't want to yell at me to get them, have genderqueer Vine. Because it's a good ass headcanon.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy the newly expanded _Weight_. Which, knowing me, is going to rival Silver Rings in size.
> 
> RIP.

Ruby let herself fall maybe longer than she should have, but once she landed, feet still vibrating from Crescent Rose’s shots, she didn’t regret it. The area was huge, the mission was important, and taking time to just enjoy herself was important to her. They were hunters, now! At least temporarily, at least while they were with the Ace Ops, and it was exciting to finally be doing something bigger than just running, and walking, and trying to get from one messed up place to the next.

“All right, let’s get going,” said Harriet, as she dusted herself off from her landing. Marrow tucked his weapon back in place. Ruby _seriously_ needed to talk to him about it, because it was a chainsaw, but also a boomerang, and he could use it as a landing strategy.

That was _amazing._ Oh, she wanted to pick at it and ask him how he’d made it. All the Ace Ops’ weapons that she’d seen so far, at least in their resting forms, seemed really intricate and personal. Ruby had always said that weapons told a story about the person who wielded them, and it looked like the Ace Ops held that true to a level she’d never seen before.

They were extensions of themselves. So what kind of extensions were they?

“This place is… kinda creepy,” said Yang. “Look at it. It’s like everyone just got up and left one day.”

“That’s exactly what happened,” said Blake, as the four followed the Ace Ops toward the entrance of the mines. “The explosion…” Blake grimaced and hugged herself. She stopped walking and the other three did as well. “It was awful. It killed a lot of faunus workers and all anyone could talk about was the lost production.” She looked away from them, staring into the distance with the faraway look she got sometimes. “All we were was fodder, to them.”

Weiss rested a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. My father… this was one of the SDC mines. I should have spoken up, back then. I wish I could take back what my family has done to the faunus, Blake, but all I can do, right now, is try and atone for it, and to try and be better than he was and is.”

Blake offered her a little smile and laid her hand atop Weiss’. “Thank you.”

“You kids coming?” called Marrow from up ahead. He put his hands of his hips and rolled his eyes. “Come on, I did not sign up to be a babysitter!”

Harriet snickered and elbowed him in the side. “Please, you’re just getting the full Ace Ops experience, Marrow.” She grinned. “What do you think we do with you?”

Marrow pouted. “Hey!” He lunged for her and Harriet darted away, on his other side in an instant. She tapped him on the shoulder and he spun, still pouting.

“Too slow,” she said, grinning. Marrow rolled his eyes. “He’s right though, we need to keep moving. Can’t fall behind. Elm’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Marrow laughed. “Oh, I can hear her now, ‘Gee Harriet, I thought you were supposed to be the fast one’,” he said, in a bad approximation of Elm’s voice. Ruby giggled. Then, in a falsetto, he kept going with, “‘Oh Elm, I was too busy making fun of Marrow to do my job. I’ve ruined my reputation!’” Marrow threw an arm over his forehead and swayed on the spot, voice raising to a shout. Yang, Blake, and Weiss all laughed, Ruby still giggling behind her hand.

Harriet scowled and jumped at him, but he jumped back. “Hey, cut it out! I don’t sound like that.”

“You’re the highest pitched one out of us,” said Marrow, a hand on her face to keep her from pushing forward. “Yes, yes you do.”

“I’m still deeper than those four,” said Harriet, jerking a thumb toward them before returning to waving her arms ineffectually at Marrow.

“Not my natural voice, you’re not,” muttered Blake, low enough that only the girls heard it.

“What _does_ your natural voice sound like?” asked Weiss. Then, wincing, “I’m sorry, that’s probably really insensitive, isn’t it?”

“A little,” said Blake. “But I did bring it up. Um… you know my dad?” They all nodded. “Closer to that.”

Yang blinked. “Not gonna lie, that’s kinda hot.”

Blake groaned and put her hands over her face. “Not you _too._ It’s bad enough your _uncle_ is hot for my dad, I don’t need my partner drooling over him.”

Yang flushed. “Not what I meant.”

Blake stared. Then, “O-oh.” She flushed darker than Yang. “Right. Okay.”

A chirp as the comms clicked on. _“Bravo, this is Alpha, checking in. Are you in position yet?”_

Ruby stared at Harriet and Marrow, who were running around each other like the children they claimed Team RWBY to be. She pressed her finger to her earpiece to reply.

“Nope,” she said, “not yet.”

_“Let me guess, Marrow and Harriet are fighting. Again.”_ Clover’s voice went hard on the last word and Marrow and Harriet froze, then snapped to attention.

“Sorry,” they both said, fingers on their comms.

Clover sighed over the comm. _“Get in the mines, you two. We have a mission to complete. And new hunters to train.”_

“Oh, I’d say I’m learning _tons_ ,” said Yang, folding her arms over her chest and grinning. “Just tons.”

“Shut up and get in the cave,” muttered Harriet, before turning and stalking toward the entrance. Marrow winced, tail drooping, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“She… doesn’t really like it when Clover gets all ‘disappointed team leader’ on us,” said Marrow, rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, let’s get this going.” He turned and headed toward the mine, gesturing for the girls to follow him.

They did, and Ruby couldn’t help but rub her arms as they went. It was _cold_ , but she figured she’d be a lot colder if not for all the thermal clothing with the fire Dust sewn in. Weiss had insisted on all the extra layers and heating, explaining that the cold of Solitas was the most brutal and dangerous cold in all of Remnant. Without proper heating and protection, or a projected aura, the Solitas cold would freeze you to death in a matter of hours.

Not Ruby’s idea of a good time.

The whole of the mining area was _strange_ to Ruby. Almost like a little town had been built outside of the mines, mixed with processing. Had the faunus workers had adequate heating? Had they all been safe inside with fire Dust to keep them warm? Somehow, knowing the SDC had run the mines, she didn’t believe it. The thought made her skin crawl.

As they walked into the shadow of the mine, Ruby felt a chill run down her spine, as if something old, and big, and mean was watching them. It was the same sort of feeling she’d gotten in Mistral. She shivered, rubbing at her arms some more.

“Are you okay?” asked Weiss. “I have some extra fire Dust, if you need it.”

“You could take my jacket,” said Yang. “I know you haven’t gotten a chance to ask Uncle Qrow to fix your cape yet, but you could wear my jacket under it. I run hot; I’d be okay.” She was already starting to pull it off.

“No, no, I’m okay,” said Ruby, waving her arms around. Though, Yang did run hot, so she totally could. But mostly, she just couldn’t wait for Uncle Qrow to fix her cape. At least he was upright now. That made things easier on her heart. “Just weirded out. This place doesn’t feel right.”

“It really doesn’t,” agreed Blake, frowning.

“Bad vibes?” asked Yang, tilting her head.

Blake and Ruby both nodded.

“It feels… like something’s watching us,” said Blake, slowly. “Something bad.”

“Something old,” said Ruby.

“Probably just the Geist,” said Harriet from up ahead. Ruby jumped. She hadn’t realized that Harriet could hear them, but with the echoes of the mine, it made sense. “That thing must be old as _balls_ , so it’ll be watching us as we go through the mines. It’ll probably move around a few times, pick out the weak link, then retreat to take us on.” Harriet stretched her arms above her head. “Pretty standard with Solitas Grimm. They don’t come out much, so they live for decades if we don’t clear them out periodically.”

Ruby let out a low whistle. How many old Grimm were there in Solitas?

Yet…

“Right,” said Ruby, nodding. “That must be it.” She couldn’t help but frown. It didn’t _feel_ like that was it. Ruby didn’t know how to explain it, other than a prickle on the back of her neck. There was something here. She just hoped it was only the Geist.

“Looks like we have a cave-in,” called Marrow, up ahead.

Ruby turned herself toward Marrow and sucked in a breath. The entire entrance of the cave had collapsed upon itself, leaving a massive pile of rubble made of stone and wood and metal crates that looked like it belonged in an apocalypse movie and not an Atlesian mine. The SDC label stared up from the crates, the ink of the stamp worn out but still visible all around them.

It mocked her. Taunted her. Ruby ground her teeth together. There was so much evil in the world, so many monsters and magic users and demons. And yet one of the biggest evils of Atlas was just a man with too much money and too much power and no one to hold him in check.

Why couldn’t General Ironwood do more? Why couldn’t he just _arrest_ Jacques? He had to be breaking laws, right?

Right?

“How are we supposed to get in now?” asked Yang. Ruby watched Yang survey the area, eyes narrowing as she glanced from the supports, to the rubble, to the SDC containers. “Can’t blast it, we’ll collapse the whole mine.” She put her hands on her hips. “And even if we don’t, we might collapse the tunnels the others are in.”

“Good eye,” said Marrow, flashing her a thumb’s up. He stroked his own chin. “Harriet, you see anything?”

She darted around, faster than normal but not fast enough for Ruby to do more than narrow her eyes. Was it a Semblance? Ooh, it would be _so cool_ if she had a speed semblance. Or maybe it was just speed from her aura. Plenty of hunters were faster than normal because of their training and aura.

Uncle Qrow was like that. So was Winter. Ren was getting there. It was _crazy._

“Could be a gap in here, lemme check,” called Harriet.

Ruby left them to work and turned back toward her team. Blake was rubbing her arms and frowning at the area, ears swivelling back and forth.

“You okay?” asked Yang, watching Blake with a cocked head. “Still feeling that weird vibe?”

“I’m sure it’s just the Geist,” murmured Blake, rubbing her arms, but her ears were twisted flat against her head and her frown tugged hard at the corners of her mouth. “It has to be.”

Ruby watched Marrow and Harriet, who were checking things. There was a humming in her body that wouldn’t fade. It made her eyes burn in a way that was slowly growing more familiar. The burning from Argus, the burning from the battle in Mistral, from the top of Beacon.

A Grimm was calling.

Ruby got down on one knee and peeled off her glove, ignoring the cold that bit into her palm without the fire Dust fibers protecting her. She pressed the flat of her palm to the cold, dusty ground and closed her eyes.

There was something there. She just had to figure out _what._

Ruby took a deep, slow breath.

_Life is beautiful._

She focused on the feeling of the world around her. On the comforting presence of her friends. On the knowledge that they were doing good.

_It is precious._

Atlas was going to be protected. Atlas was going to be safe. Atlas was going grow and become a hub to stop Salem. Ruby would protect everything.

Ruby would—

“Hey, we found something,” called Harriet.

Ruby’s eyes snapped open, vision white and blurry around the edges for a moment. She winced and got to her feet, dusting off her hand, then her leggings, before slipping her glove back on and turning to face Harriet.

“Got a gap,” said Harriet. “Pretty small, but I figure one of you could fit through it.” She glanced at Blake. “Preferably the one of you who can see in the dark.”

Blake nodded, ears straightening. “Uh, sure. I can do that.” She hurried over to where Harriet was, drawing Gambol Shroud and setting it to gun mode as she disappeared between the rocks.

“You okay, Ruby?” asked Yang.

Ruby frowned. It was still there, a prickling down her spine. “Fine,” she murmured. “Just…” What was it she’d been trying to do? She’d never tried to do that before. Why had she tried? Why had it felt right? “I don’t know. This place feels weird.”

_“Any Dust over there, Blake?”_ asked Marrow on comms.

“It does,” agreed Weiss. “I can’t _wait_ to get out of here.”

Ruby chewed on the inside of her cheek. When this was over, she wanted to talk to Miss Calavera. If anyone would know about this weird feeling, it would be her.

_“Rubble, mine carts, but no Dust,”_ said Blake over the comms.

“All right. Should be clear to break through, then,” said Harriet, tapping the comm with one finger. “Come on back.”

A shout, a scream, a blast of gunfire.

“Damn it. Blake, stand back!” shouted Harriet. Ruby drew Crescent Rose as everyone else drew their weapons around her. Harriet’s own weapon – exo-armour that covered her arms and upper back – ripped out of the pack on her back. She punched through the rocks and they all rushed forward, firing at the Geist as it darted away from them.

“Don’t let it get away,” called Yang.

The Geist vanished through a wall. Ruby stumbled, eyes going wide. The feeling, the presence. It wasn’t going the same way as the Geist. It was below her. Way, way below her.

_Whoa._

From the floor, the walls, the ceiling, came spinning centipede-like Grimm with a head on either end of their grotesque, ten-foot-long bodies. One of them spat what might have been acid from its mouth of many tiny, chattering teeth. Ew. Gross. Ew.

“That’s… disgusting,” said Yang, before punching it in the mouth. And then they were all off, Ruby flitting away to tackle the Grimm further down the tunnel.

“Centinels. Try not to get burned by their acid!” called Marrow. So it _was_ acid. Great. Just what Ruby needed.

_“We lost the target. Engaging Centinels,”_ called Harriet over the comms.

“You better not burn my cape!” Ruby shouted, slashing through one of them. She pumped the mechanism to switch her blade around and slashed through another. “Stupid Grimm.” She leapt, launched off her scythe, and threw herself at the Centinel. She kicked through it, swung upward, and cut through it. It vanished.

All around her, the others fought the Centinels that spread around them, spiralling and twisting through the cave. Ruby aimed at one Centinel and froze when Marrow leapt over her. She watched with wide eyes as he cut and slashed through them as if they were nothing.

One ripped up toward him and he smirked, snapped his fingers, and said, “ _Stay._ ”

The word rippled across Ruby’s shoulders and she shivered as the Grimm froze. Harriet zipped up to the Centinel and punched through it.

“Whoa,” whispered Yang. “Is that a mind control semblance? I thought those were outlawed.”

“Not quite,” said Marrow, wincing. He turned toward the others and shrugged, looking awkward. “More of a command thing.”

“Centinel,” called Blake, lifting her gun.

Ruby saw it ripping through the cave. “I got it!” But before she could fire, Harriet sped forward and slugged it, sending it dissipating into ash and smog.

Harriet chuckled.

Ruby ran over to her, tucking Crescent Rose against her back, and gasped, eyes sparkling. “You have a speed semblance, just like me. That’s _so cool_.” She bounced up and down in place.

Harriet chuckled. “Really? Though, judging by your reaction time, I’d say I’m faster.” She winked and Ruby giggled. Cool. She had someone she could race!

“They are outlawed,” said Blake, putting Gambol Shroud away. “They’re considered immoral, dangerous, deadly in cases.” Ruby watched Blake flit her gaze up and down Marrow. She was frowning. “Charisma without effort. Command without question. The most dangerous combination of all, especially in a position of power.”

Marrow winced and rubbed the back of his neck. His tail hung limp behind him. “Hey, I’m not like that. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not exactly the leader of the Ace Ops. That’s Clover. And besides, that’s not how my semblance works.”

Blake’s ears swivelled back, and her frown deepened. “It doesn’t matter if that’s how it works. Your semblance gives you power over others. It gives _you_ the ability to do whatever you want.”

Marrow frowned. “Hey, that’s not who I am as a person.”

“Your semblance is _exactly_ who you are as a person,” said Blake, stomping one foot. Her voice grew high and tight as she spoke, echoing around them. “That’s the whole point of them, isn’t it? To showcase who we are at a level nothing else can reach. If your semblance lets you command others, then what does that say about you, Marrow?” The hairs around her ears were standing up and her eyes were wild and wide.

Ruby sucked in a breath, understanding dawning.

_Oh._

“Blake, he’s not Adam,” said Yang. “He’s not all that much older than us. Dude seems cool.”

“Twenty-three,” said Marrow, helpfully. “So, what, I’ve got four years on you?”

“You should stop talking now,” said Ruby. “You know, just to help.” Marrow nodded and mimed zipping his lips.

Blake rubbed her arms. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re not—" She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Look, I get that you girls have been through some shit, but uh, this isn’t the time to play therapy,” said Harriet. “You wanna know about Marrow’s semblance? It’s got more limits than any other semblance on this team and he uses it sparingly. He’s probably the only one of us who can fight completely without it, as much as it pains me to admit.” Harriet retracted her weapon and folded her arms across her chest. “And if he _wanted_ to fuck with us, don’t you think he would? You see the way I talk to him.”

“Yeah, badly,” said Marrow. Then he winced. “Sorry.” He put a hand over his mouth.

Ruby watched Blake. It had been a week since Blake and Yang had stumbled back to the ship, ready to fly to Atlas, blood on their hands and staining their clothes, Gambol Shroud broken into two pieces. Yang seemed to be adjusting well, despite the fact that she’d, you know, killed a man. Blake on the other hand…

Ruby kept waking up to the sound of Blake crying in her sleep. She didn’t know if the others heard her. She was too scared to ask.

“Can we talk about this later?” mumbled Blake. “We have a mission to complete.”

“Sure,” said Yang, reaching out to put a hand on Blake’s shoulder. Blake pushed away from her and stumbled down the cave. “Be careful,” called Yang, voice soft. Ruby offered Yang a little smile.

Yang didn’t return it.

* * *

Jaune let out a quiet breath as he followed Nora, Ren, Elm, and Vine into the ice caves. His idea for a landing strategy had worked. He’d managed to float down and survive without anyone needing to save him.

_I’m sorry!_

He winced, head twitching to one side in a phantom of a flinch. Not the time. They were in Grimm infested territory. He needed to be positive. And he was positive. This was their first mission as a team, minus Oscar, and it was going to be _awesome._

“This is so great!” said Nora, echoing his thoughts as she threw her arms wide. “Ah, this is so exciting. We’re real hunters now. Well, sorta. We don’t have licenses and we’re just helping the Ace Ops, but it’s still a real mission.”

“We went on real missions in Anima,” said Ren. He tilted his head, gaze flicking from Nora to Vine and Elm, who were a few steps ahead. “We stopped a Geist, in fact. Remember? You and Ruby used your combo attack.”

“I threw up _so much_ ,” said Nora, still grinning. “I mean, not until after she shot the Geist, but wow. I don’t know how she handles her semblance. All that spinning and speeding and stuff. I puked _everywhere_.”

Ren wrinkled his nose. “Nora, that’s disgusting.”

She shrugged. “ _Anyway_ , it’s totally not the same. That was a baby Geist, and you heard the hunters,” Jaune could almost hear the way she was putting a capital H on the word ‘hunters’, “the ones here could be _ancient._ This is a granddaddy Geist!”

“Please don’t call the Grimm ‘daddy’,” muttered Ren, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Ren,” Nora sounded aghast in that overdramatic way that meant she wasn’t serious. She gasped, “You can’t be _serious._ Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“Nora Bubblegum Valkyrie.” Ren’s voice was flat.

“Is your middle name really Bubblegum?” asked Jaune, unable to keep the laugh out of his voice.

Nora grinned. “I’m an orphan, Jaune. I picked all three of my names.” She flashed a peace sign. “Though not all because of the orphan thing. One was because of the—” She stopped short, gaze going to Elm and Vine. “You know,” a shrug, “the other thing.” Her voice was quiet, closer to a mumble.

Jaune glanced away from Nora, a little weight in the cave. They were cold, breath billowing in front of them, and blue-white ice glowing with Dust embed in the depths of the walls. But the weight in the cave wasn’t from those. It was a weight of gender, of fear. Atlas was so strict with gender norms and gender roles, and while transgender identities were legally accepted, there was still a lot of _stuff_ about them. Stuff that Jaune didn’t know what to make of.

Nora hadn’t had to dig far into the Atlas news archives to find stories about Winter, which were still published from time to time. Her transition, and outing, had been _huge_ , solely because the Schnees were such massive titans in Atlas and Mantle. Winter coming out at seventeen, in Atlas Academy, had made headlines. Jaune wanted to ask her about it, sometime. To see if she was okay. To see if she had anyone to talk to, about being trans. About being out like that.

About how Atlas viewed her, watched her, as if waiting for her to screw up to prove so many stereotypes to be true, in gender and in a lot more.

It had to be hard on her.

He hadn’t even known Winter was trans. Neither had Nora. They’d both stumbled across it while searching for trans news stories to see how they’d be viewed if they wanted to be out.

Jaune still wasn’t sure what the answer was.

Still wasn’t sure how he felt about knowing Winter’s identity without her consent. It made his skin crawl and his stomach churn, at the very least.

“So… Ren,” said Nora, poking her fingers together in front of her chest as they walked. The ground was slippery, but Jaune’s new boots gripped it well, and he walked on Ren’s other side. Ren looked at Nora, then back at Elm and Vine. The glow of the caves was getting brighter as they started descending.

“Yes?” asked Ren.

“I like what you did with your outfit,” said Nora, her voice shy. Jaune smiled. Ever since the fight with the Nuckelavee, he’d been watching the two of them grow closer and closer. They’d been friends for so long, and he couldn’t imagine how hard this slow, unsure transition was for them. He only hoped it worked out. Still, he couldn’t help the tightness in his chest when he looked at them and how they looked at each other.

Too much of a memory of Pyrrha, he guessed, and what could have been. But that didn’t explain…

“Oh,” said Ren, flushing. Jaune shook off his thoughts. Not the time. “Um, thank you.” He tugged at the edges of his shirt. “I’ll admit, I was surprised that Dr. Polendina was fine with my adjustments. I suspected more resistance, considering the heavily gendered nature of Atlas.”

A snort, ahead. Jaune turned to see Elm eyeing him. She stood next to Vine, who was crouched and studying claw marks on the ground, a frown on his face.

“You might get some looks,” said Elm, her fists on her hips, “but we’ll defend you. You deserve to dress how you want, kid.”

Vine hummed and pulled himself to his full height. “Indeed. Gender norms are ridiculous, and gender is only as real as you wish it to be,” he said, voice mostly a murmur.

Jaune blinked. _What?_

“Wow,” said Nora. “That is _not_ something I expected a cis guy to say.”

Vine looked at them all, a wry smile on his face and a twinkle in his pale eyes. “Who ever said I was either?”

Nora blinked, mouth falling open. Ren and Jaune’s mouths dropped open in turn.

“You… you’re… you’re not… why are you telling us this?” asked Nora, throwing her hands wide.

Vine raised an eyebrow. “You _are_ aware that you’re wearing the trans flag, yes?”

Nora flushed. “I didn’t expect anyone to notice!” she shouted, waving her arms around. Her voice echoed off the walls and there was a rumbling up ahead. Vine and Elm exchanged a look.

“We should get moving,” said Elm. She and Vine struck off again.

“Wait,” called Nora, running after them. Jaune and Ren jogged after her. “If you’re not—what _are_ you, exactly? Are your pronouns really he/him?”

An icy hill in the cave that they all slid down, heading deeper.

“Contact!” shouted Vine as he and Elm slid down ahead of them. Vine threw out his arms and his aura extended with him. A pale-yellow colour shaped like arms and hands that dug into the walls of the cave. Elm planted her feet and her own aura appeared, like roots in the ice, holding her still.

Jaune pulled out his sword as he, Ren, and Nora slid down passed them, ducking under the aura arms and launching themselves at the creepy creatures that had broken through the ice at the bottom.

Centinels. Giant, Grimm centipedes that oozed acid from their mouths when injured. Their bite could eat through steel. Yuck.

Jaune slammed one with his shield. Nora swung at one with her hammer. Ren shot one down. Nora got the last one. Then, they were done.

“Very… hands on,” said Vine, sliding down the hill and pausing at the three of them.

Elm grinned and slapped Jaune on the back. “Well done, kid!” He stumbled, wincing at the sting that reverbed through his entire body.

“And to answer your questions – genderqueer, and it depends on the day, though I’m largely fine with he/him as a rule,” said Vine, looking at Nora. He smiled at her. “I must admit, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to talk to a fellow trans hunter. It’s… nice.”

Nora beamed. “It really is.”

“Two, actually,” said Jaune, raising his hand, cheeks burning. “I’m trans too. Trans guy, right here.” He let out a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

Elm grinned. “Well, looks like we have more hunters to adopt, then. Right, Vine?”

Vine rolled his eyes. “Indeed.” Then, smiling at Jaune, “It’s good to know there are many like myself in the next generation of hunters. And even better to know you have each other.”

Jaune let out another nervous laugh and turned to look at Ren, who watched them all with a shadow over his face and a look in his eyes that Jaune couldn’t place.

“You okay?” asked Jaune.

“Sure, fine,” said Ren, nodding. He pulled out Stormflower and spun them on his hands. “Let’s keep going.” He pushed forward, not looking back, and Jaune exchanged a glance with Nora. She shrugged, frowning.

What was up with that?

* * *

_“This is Alpha. We’ve engaged the target!”_ Clover’s voice rang loud and clear through the comms, jolting Ruby and the others in their search. With a whoop, Harriet took off into the caves, Ruby and the others hot on her trail.

They broke out of the tunnels into a massive central mine, just like the blueprints had said. There was Dust _everywhere._ Massive crystals that clung to the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Minecarts filled with it on tracks that rose up on the icy ledges and cliffs around the walls. Man-made steel structures containing crates and containers of Dust.

It was _so hot_ in the cavern. The fire Dust was burning up the air like they were inside a furnace. Ruby let out a breath and grimaced at how it didn’t fog. Instead, the moisture in her mouth was eaten up, leaving her mouth dry and tacky.

Above, on the ledge, Vine, Elm, Jaune, Nora, and Ren appeared through the mouth of a tunnel which must have led into the ice tunnels. They slid to a stop as they came in.

“Guys!” called Ruby, waving. Nora waved back. The comms chirruped.

_“Be careful, the Dust in this cavern is highly volatile. Any disturbance could trigger a massive explosion that would destroy the launch site,”_ said Vine over the comms. Ruby tapped her ear and nodded. Right.

“And kill us!” shouted Marrow, waving his arms in the air. Ruby didn’t think he was using the comms. She winced at the volume. “Why is that always second with you?”

_“You underestimate my ability to live through nonsense,”_ said Vine, drily.

Marrow pouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s survived you, hasn’t he?” said Harriet, with a snort.

_“…Where’s the Geist?”_ asked Nora, her voice echoing around the cavern and into the comms. _“I thought it was supposed to be here.”_

From above, a rumbling. Ruby winced as the prickling in her eyes and her stomach grew so strong that she could barely see through it. She stared up, wincing, as the rocks above shifted and groaned, revealing the body of the Geist.

It leapt, crashing through steel support beams and rocking the whole cavern. Everyone wobbled as it touched down, sending massive plumes of icy smoke all around them. Ruby blinked away the pain in her eyes and stared up at the tall, icy, glowing body of the Geist.

“It added _Dust_ to its body?” asked Ruby, holding Crescent Rose closely. _What_. She hadn’t known they could do that. “How are we supposed to fight it?”

“Like this,” said Harriet, with a chuckle, and then she was gone, Marrow following after. Above, Elm and Vine sprang into action as well.

Glowing, yellow arms shot out from Vine and wiped toward the Geist, wrapping around one of its legs. The other arm wrapped around a steel support. The Geist tried to walk but Vine held fast, the strain visible even where Ruby stood.

Elm slammed her feet into the ground next to the Geist, aura glowing and creating tree-like roots that dug hard into the icy and snow beneath. She grabbed the leg that Vine had stopped and shouted.

“Vine!”

Vine released the Geist and went flipping into the air, using the glowing arms to flip and twist over the Geist and land on the steel beam above its head. Vine’s glowing arms stretched out and latched onto the crate of Dust the Geist was using as part of one arm.

“Marrow!” shouted Vine, and Ruby stared as Marrow took off and swung his chainsaw-boomerang into the air, slashing through the black body of the Geist. The crate dropped into Vine’s arms, ice and stone went flying, and so did a massive chunk of purple Dust crystal.

_Oh no._

“Harriet,” called Marrow and Harriet grinned. She crouched, touched the tips of her fingers to the ground, and lifted her head. Her entire body flickered with golden lightning. Then, she was gone. Sprinting through the cavern with speed that had everyone else swinging their heads around. Ruby followed Harriet with nothing but her eyes, mentally tallying each step and motion.

Up the ledge, over a beam, upside down leap into the air. She grabbed the Dust crystal and swung around, touching down with sliding heels and the same grin as always.

“Ah, so cool,” whispered Ruby as the fight continued. Vine and Elm pinned limbs while Marrow and Harriet slashed at them. Marrow got another arm down and then swore as a purple Dust crystal went whipping through the air and no one was around to get it.

Ruby planted a foot, already the taste of rose petals on her tongue. But before she had a chance to make a dash for it, Clover appeared at the mouth of another entrance, high in the wall, and caught the crystal.

He gave a warm chuckle that resounded through the comms like a hug and leaned against the broken metal railing in front of him.

_“What would guys do without me?”_ he asked, the amusement clear in his voice. Ruby grinned as she watched him turn, toss the crystal to Uncle Qrow, give him a little salute, and backflip off the ledge to help with the fight.

“Show off,” muttered Harriet, close enough that Ruby could hear.

Ruby giggled, a hand over her mouth.

The Grimm had reformed an arm in the space it took this to happen, leaving it with half of one arm and a full left one. It stumbled and yelled as Vine and Elm slammed into it, knocking it off balance over and over as it wobbled around the cavern. Harriet zipped around its feet, shoving at the one that wasn’t in the air at any given time. Marrow cut at the joints, his weapon zipping and sliding around the others like it could sense where they were going.

Elm slammed her hammer into the metal crate the Geist was using as a hand and drove it deep enough into the ground to pin it there. Clover moved next, racing across the ledge he’d landed on and springing into the air. He kicked off the top of the Geist and twisted around as he fell in front of it.

It was almost slow motion.

The flick of his fishing rod, the twist of his arm and wrist as he dropped the hook around the mask of the Geist. The flash of metal as the hook latched onto the line on the other side, forming a loop. He twisted around, hauled with enough strength that Ruby saw the strain in his muscles, and yelled as he ripped the Geist free of its icy, Dusty body.

Harriet sprinted for it, electricity crackling down her body. Her armour dropped onto her arms and hands as she leapt into the air, just in time for her to uppercut the Geist’s mask and send it scattering into a thousand bits of ash and smoke that evaporated in the cave.

The body fell, and with it, the Dust. Vine grabbed one, two. Landed. Elm tucked and rolled to grab two more. Marrow pulled a massive flip into the air to grab another, landing on the ledge near Uncle Qrow. Clover used his fishing rod to swing himself in an arc over the Geist’s falling body and snagged a crystal before it could fall. He landed on one knee.

But there was one more, high and flying in the air.

_“Harriet!”_ called Clover, but Ruby already had a plan. She wasn’t losing, this time. Taste and smell of roses strong all around her, she planted one foot and launched herself at the Dust crystal. The world blurred and twisted while staying perfectly the same as always, simultaneously. She latched onto the crystal, came out of her speed form, and tucked and rolled into a rock, cradling the massive crystal close to her chest.

The rock hurt, but her aura took it. She grinned down at the crystal.

Ruby laughed as Harriet came up and helped her to her feet with a strong, warm hand.

“Thought you said your semblance was like mine,” said Harriet, looking down the few inch difference at Ruby with her hands on her hips.

Ruby cocked her head to one side and wrinkled her nose. “It… is?” she replied, mostly a question. She rubbed the back of her head with one hand, frowning.

Harriet huffed. “I’ve seen other speed semblances before, kid. That was something else entirely. Might wanna take a look at it.” She spoke like they were peers, despite the phrasing, and Ruby couldn’t help but grin at that even as Harriet’s words sunk under her skin.

Not a speed semblance? But what else could it be? Ruby frowned and set the crystal down, thinking.

She didn’t get much of a chance to think. Ruby yelped at Elm hoisted her onto one shoulder and paraded her around while cheering. Ruby laughed and let herself be carried, watching as Blake and Weiss laughed at something Yang said. At least Blake was laughing again. Maybe earlier was just a fluke.

She saw Uncle Qrow next to Clover, across the cavern. Uncle Qrow looked pale, a little shaky, but he was still on his feet and he didn’t seem like he was actively dying, so that was good.

Ruby laughed, waving her arms around as Elm bounced her like she weighed nothing.

Hey, maybe to Elm, she didn’t.

_“Atlas Control, this is Clover. Mission accomplished,”_ was Clover’s voice over the comms.

Ruby couldn’t help but beam. They’d managed their first mission as real hunters. And sure, maybe they hadn’t finished the fight, but they were learning, they were making new friends, and the sky was the limit.

There was so much to talk about, so much to think about. So much to wonder about. The world was opening up every day and Ruby couldn’t wait to see what came next.

And maybe, later, she’d have a chance to talk to Blake about what had happened, and Harriet about what she meant, and everyone, about everything. She was a leader. She needed to get answers.

But right now, she just wanted to celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple big things I wanted to address in this chapter. First, I wanted to start digging into Blake's trauma re: Adam, the fight, and her past. Second, I wanted to explore more of how the Ace Ops would be different in a world where James much more deeply emphasizes friendship and connection. I think it turned out well.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and sticking around. I would love to know what you think if you have the time and energy! Cheers. <3


	11. Take My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RRAYNBOW finishes their first mission, just in time to deal with Atlas' personal asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah updates are wacky right now because my mental health remains in flux. Summer always sucks for me. If you've been around long enough, you know I go into hiatus during most summers. Sorry.
> 
> Also I forgot to mention that I write Mercury as trans. So, when he shows up, that'll be a thing.
> 
> _Everyone is trans._ Nyeh heh heh.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> tw for a brief occurrence of misgendering and general child abuse shit involving Jacques Schnee

The journey out of the cavern was loud and exuberant, with Ruby bouncing around with her teammates to talk about everything that had happened today. Jaune and Nora were as excited as ever, but Blake and Ren both seemed subdued. They hung back, talking to no one except one another. Yang was in front of them, but she kept glancing back at Blake while hugging her right arm with her left. By where she was holding it, and the tight lines around her mouth, Ruby guessed the prosthetic was bothering her where it joined the skin.

Weiss walked with Yang, a hand on her shoulder and a comforting smile on her face. Ruby kept one eye on them when she could, but mostly she was trying to stay excited in hopes that it would help the others.

“And then Marrow was like _bam_ and Harriet went _whoosh_ ,” said Ruby, throwing her arms out as they approached the mouth of the cavern. Outside, the brilliant light of the mid-afternoon sunset turned the world pink and yellow. The Ace Ops, and Uncle Qrow, walked ahead, looking every bit the fancy hunters that they were. “And you should have _seen_ it Nora. His semblance is _so cool._ ”

Nora grinned and bounced in place. “You should have seen us.” She jammed a thumb into her chest. “We were totally kicking butt with those Centinels. All pow, and crash, and yeah! Tell her, Jaune.”

Jaune let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his head, nodding. “Yeah, it was pretty great. I actually have a landing strategy now. No more damsel in distress for me.”

“Aww, that’s great Jaune. I’m so proud,” said Ruby, beaming at him and skipping forward.

Nora snorted. “Ah, come on. You were a great damsel in distress. I bet I could carry you all over Remnant in my arms like the knight I am.” She puffed up, hands on her hips.

Jaune rolled his eyes. “I thought you were a queen, Nora.”

“What, I can’t be both?” asked Nora. She threw her arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know the rules of royalty. Only one of us is a princess, and that’s Blake!”

Blake’s head snapped up at the mention of her name, ears swivelling.

“I… I don’t think I count as a princess,” said Blake, cheeks pink.

“Why not? You’re beautiful enough to be one,” said Nora. She gestured to Blake. “I mean, seriously, look at you. You make models look like ugly ducklings! You know what people would do to be as gorgeous as you? Damn.”

Blake turned scarlet and ducked her head. “Um, thank you,” she mumbled, tugging at a strand of short hair.

As the group broke out into the open space, Ruby sucked in a breath. Atlesian military trucks and SUVs were already driving up to the area, securing the perimeter and setting up workstations and security. Ruby stared, eyes growing wide as she saw the soldiers marching around, most of them armed and the rest carrying supplies that looked like they cost more than her entire house. Each piece, that was, not all of it together.

It was bright and cold, with the sun shining near the horizon and throwing pink and yellow and blue light across the sky. Tightly packed snow crunched under their boots as they walked, and steam rose from the edges of the vehicles. Many soldiers were the basic sort, with the helmets that hid their identities, but Ruby spotted a few uniformed Specialists around. All of them dressed just like Winter. And Marrow, now that she thought about it.

His uniform was the only one without any real modification. Just a bandanna at his throat.

“Whoa,” breathed Ruby. “That’s so cool.”

“You wanna talk about cool?” said Jaune, sliding up to stand in front of Clover. Clover stopped, smiling, his arms folded loosely over his chest. “What you guys did was amazing. You just… you swept in and knew exactly what to do. No communication other than your names. No time to plan, no discussion of strategy. It’s incredible how well you know each other’s styles.”

Clover chuckled. “Ace-Ops are hand-picked to compliment each other. Vine and Elm were on a team together in the Academy, too. Plus, we’ve all worked together for years.”

“Uh, not even,” said Harriet, poking Marrow in the arm. “Our resident pouty boy has only been with us for what, six months, Clover?”

“Nine months!” protested Marrow, folding his arms and huffing. “I’m not _that_ new.”

“And we’ve loved every one of those months,” said Clover, smiling diplomatically. “Harriet, go easy on him. He did well today.” Clover turned his attention to Marrow. “You did. Great callouts, fantastic footwork. Even I would have missed that crystal I had to grab, in your shoes. Well done.” Marrow’s tail wagged, slow and hesitant behind him. Marrow grimaced and grabbed at it, missing as it picked up speed. His ears burned a dark, uneven red. Harriet snickered.

Marrow rubbed the back of his neck, puffing up a bit. “Well, you know. We _are_ hand-picked from the best Specialists in Atlas.”

Harriet hummed and leaned against Clover, one folded arm draped across his shoulder. “Yeah? So, where’d they get you, then? All the best on the field that day?”

Marrow pouted. “You know what—”

“All right, all right,” said Clover, waving them both off. “Enough, you two. Aren’t you supposed to be partners?”

Harriet rolled her eyes and folded her arms. Ruby watched, eyes wide, unsure what to make of all the banter. Was it friendly? Mean? She couldn’t quite tell. It was like when Yang and Weiss bickered, but a lot more intense and a lot more public.

“Yeah, what’s that got to do with it? All you and Qrow,” Harriet jerked a thumb at him, “have done since you _met_ is argue, from what you’ve bitched about at the bars, and you two are supposed to be—” Clover clapped a hand over her mouth, cheeks burning brightly.

It was way too late, though. Because _everyone_ was staring at Clover and Harriet, Ruby included. Her mouth fell open. Uncle Qrow was supposed to have a _partner_?

Since when? Why hadn’t he told her?

“Wait, _what_?” Nora’s voice cracked as she shouted, throwing her hands into the air. “How come _Qrow_ gets to join the Ace-Ops? I wanna join the Ace-Ops!” She stomped a foot and looked up at Elm, gesturing to her with both arms waving wildly. “Look at this woman! We could be best friends. The ultimate team. Think of it. _Thunder Thighs_.” She did jazz hands. Jaune and Weiss both quieted a laugh, but Ruby was still too busy staring at Clover. She let her gaze slide to Uncle Qrow, who was rubbing the back of his head, his cheeks rosy and his head ducked.

“Clover and I aren’t partners,” said Qrow. He cleared his throat and shook off the blush, which only sort of worked. “James had the idea to team us up because…” He waved his hand vaguely, which Ruby figured was the best answer she was getting right now. “But it’s not worth it. He’s got his team, and I’ve got too much solo work to do, here.”

“Solo work?” echoed Yang. “What sort of solo work are you doing?”

Blake and Ren shuffled up level with the rest. Ren pulled Nora away from Elm, sighing, and Blake twirled a strand of hair around one finger.

“Well, you said your uncle is a spy, right?” asked Blake, but her gaze was on Qrow. There was a shadow in her eyes that wasn’t there around most other people. Ruby frowned. Why did Blake dislike Uncle Qrow? Something else to ask about.

“Yeah…” Yang cocked her head at Blake. “So?”

Blake shrugged. “City full of people – two, actually – and a ton of information we don’t have? Especially with an upcoming election to get on the council, which General Ironwood is on. It makes perfect sense for Qrow to sneak around and gather intel in the shadows.” Her gaze turned flat and her mouth curved downward into a frown. “Not that I think it’s the best idea.”

“Can’t always gather information out in the open,” said Uncle Qrow. He shuffled a step to the left, toward Clover, away from them. The breeze blew at Ruby’s hair and cape, chilling her beneath the layer of aura and fire Dust. She shivered, but she didn’t think it was just from the cold.

Blake hummed. “Maybe not. But I know how spies operate. And I know how many broken bones and people they leave in their wake.”

Uncle Qrow’s mouth twitched up on one side, but he didn’t deny the claim. Ruby winced. She knew Uncle Qrow could be kind of vicious when he fought, but he was a good guy, and he wouldn’t do stuff like that unless there was no other option.

But… maybe that didn’t matter.

Ruby cleared her throat to draw attention back to herself. “So, um, election?”

“The Atlas council has an open seat after the… unfortunate death of its last holder,” said Weiss, stepping up to Ruby. She frowned. “There were claims of foul play, but it seems all accusations were dropped while I was gone.” She cast a look to the sky, frowning. Ruby wondered what she saw in her head. What she was thinking.

Some snow drifted around their feet, stirred up from the activity.

“The open seat could be a game changer in Atlas,” said Clover. Behind him, the noises of construction were picking up. “We’re hoping to find someone sympathetic to the General, in order to ensure continued safety and cooperation with the people.”

Blake huffed. “You mean you want someone to vote with him, so that nothing else ever passes, because he already holds two of the five seats.” Her voice was flat and she folded her arms across her chest. “I know how politics talk works, Clover. My parents run Menagerie.”

Wait, General Ironwood held two seats on the council? Why did he have two seats on the council?

Clover winced. He rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at Blake. “Well, sorta. We don’t want to control Atlas, don’t get me wrong! The fifth seat holder should be their own person with their own thoughts and opinions.”

“Uh-huh,” said Blake, ears swivelling.

Clover continued, “It’d just be nice if someone on the council actually _respected_ General Ironwood and his ideas, considering Councilman Sleet and Councilwoman Camilla both…”

“Hate his guts?” offered Uncle Qrow. “Want him dead? Think he’s a raging, emotionless workaholic with more soldiers than sense?” He folded his arms and snorted. “Should I keep going, or do you think I got the gist of their bitching?”

Ruby snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“James is a good man, but people confuse his work ethic for his actual ethics,” said Uncle Qrow. “But it’s a job, just like any other.”

Clover cleared his throat. “Speaking of jobs…” He gestured to where General Ironwood was walking out of one of the military vehicles, a Scroll in one hand. Ruby noted two things at once. First, General Ironwood looked better than he had since the first moment he’d laid eyes on all of them. Second, Clover was really, _really_ bad at changing the subject. Maybe part of being the leader of the Ace-Ops was being bad at lying and hiding things. Made it harder to betray people.

Which… was weird to think about, but considering what had happened in Mistral, Ruby tried to keep an eye out for betrayal. She didn’t want to ever worry about losing her friends ever again. The image of Weiss with Cinder’s spear through her still haunted Ruby some nights.

“Hang back,” said Clover. “We’ll go see what’s up.” He waved for Uncle Qrow to follow and he did, flashing a wink to Ruby as he went.

Ruby shuffled over to Blake and kept her voice down. “Are you okay? You’ve been really tense and on edge all day. I just—”

“I’m fine,” snapped Blake. Ruby shrunk a bit. Oh. Blake sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m… not sleeping well. I keep worrying that we’re missing something. There’s so much going on and I don’t know what to _do._ ” Blake’s voice rose and cracked.

“Hey, take a breath, kid,” said Harriet. Blake bristled but Harriet lifted her hands in surrender. “You work hard. We all do. But you’re not alone. You’ve got a team that kicks ass and us Ace Ops alongside you. It’s okay to take a break and gather yourself. We’ll keep the momentum going and help out where we can.”

Marrow nodded. “That’s what friends are for!” He bounced on his heels as he spoke.

Ruby gasped. “Friends?” She curled her hands beneath her chin and bounced in place, across from Marrow. “Really? You want to be _friends_?”

Harriet rolled her eyes and pushed Marrow to the side, taking up Ruby’s field of view in his place. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. It took us a _long time_ to get anywhere near close, so let’s not jump the gun. You might be doing shit to help the world, but you’re still kids, and we’re still better.”

Ruby frowned. Well… yeah. Of course they were better. They all had years of experience in the field on Ruby and her team, but that didn’t mean Harriet had to push it. It seemed like Harriet only knew how to do two things: brag and snark. …It kind of reminded her of Yang, back before…

The fall.

Ruby sucked in a sharp breath. Ren laid a hand on her shoulder, having come up behind her. He didn’t activate his semblance, but even his touch brought her peace. She reached up and laid her hand across his and gave him a little smile.

Ruby looked at Blake, who was being comforted by Yang and Weiss, who hovered close by, hands upon her arms. Blake offered Ruby a little smile and Ruby returned it. Blake and Ruby had both felt the weird energy in the cave, but Ruby didn’t know why Blake had. Maybe it was her semblance. Or her faunus traits. Or maybe she’d spent so long being around things that went bump in the night that she just had a sixth sense for them.

“Marrow, Harriet, Vine, Elm,” called Clover from where he stood with Qrow. “C’mere a second.” He beckoned them with one hand.

“Time to give a report,” said Elm, rolling her eyes. “This part always blows.”

Vine pressed his hands together. “It is important to be on the same page,” he replied, following Elm. Harriet trailed beside him.

Marrow flashed them a peace sign and a wink as he darted after the others. Ruby beamed. So far, Marrow was her favourite Ace Op. They all had things that were cool, like their semblances and weapons and teamwork, but Marrow was the friendliest, and the closest to one of them.

Made him feel a bit less ‘larger than life’.

“How’s everyone feeling?” asked Ruby, bouncing away from Ren and spinning so she faced her six teammates. There was a space next to Jaune where Oscar would have fit in perfectly. It made her frown to know that he’d had to be left behind. But maybe he could join them in city missions.

She missed him, even if it had only been one day.

“Tired,” said Blake, leaning against Yang. She rubbed at her eyes and yawned. Yang slung her prosthetic arm around Blake and rubbed her fingers through the hairs that had come loose from her ponytail. “Can’t wait to get back and get some sleep.”

“Agreed,” said Yang. “I’ve had enough adventure for now.”

Ruby pouted. “But we could check out Atlas! There’s so much to see in both cities. There’s so much culture and sightseeing and—and—”

“Ruby,” said Weiss, putting her hands on her hips. “We just saw an entire continent. On foot. Do you have any idea how much sightseeing that was?” There was a flatness to her voice that made Ruby wince.

“Yeah, but, that was the boring parts,” said Ruby.

Jaune stared at her. “We… we almost died. Like. Multiple times.”

Ruby winced, again, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, well, yeah. But we didn’t!” She flashed them a thumb’s up. “We’re all good now! Safe in Atlas.”

“I wouldn’t call Atlas ‘safe’ by any stretch of the imagination,” muttered Weiss, folding her arms. “Not unless we’re talking about how safe a _prison_ is.”

Nora folded her arms behind her head and stretched. “Aw, I wouldn’t say that. Mantle’s pretty okay from what I remember. Not in riches, but in community.”

“You know Mantle?” asked Weiss.

Nora lifted one arm and scratched one temple, near her left ear. “I think so? I’m pretty sure I’m _from_ Mantle, actually.”

“Really?” Weiss reached up and readjusted the crown piece in her crown (heh) braid. “That’s interesting. You know, we keep a citizenship database in Atlas for the purposes of the census. We could ask General Ironwood about looking into it. We might be able to find out if you’ve got any blood relatives left in Mantle.” Weiss brushed her bangs away from her eyes. “Or, find out why the left in the first place.”

Nora perked. “Really?” She spun around in the snow. “That’d be _awesome!_ Oh, but I don’t wanna cause any trouble.”

Weiss huffed. “Nonsense. We’re friends, and I grew up with all this,” she gestured to the world around her, “it’s the least I can do.”

“Ruby!” Ruby spun, eyes lighting up at Oscar’s voice. He jogged toward them from an airship near General Ironwood. “Hey!”

Ruby sprinted the distance and yanked Oscar into a tight hug, laughing. “Oscar! Oh, I missed you so much. How are you? Did you have a good day?” She grabbed at his shoulders as they pulled back.

Oscar laughed with her, but he ducked his head, cheeks burning. “It was only one day,” he mumbled. He rubbed the back of his head and smiled up at her, small and shy. “I’m surprised you noticed, with all the mission stuff.”

“Of course I’m gonna notice,” said Ruby, letting go of him to wave her hands. “You’ve been right next to me for _months_. I was so bummed out when General Ironwood said you couldn’t come with us today.” She pouted. “I mean I understand, but it still sucks. And, anyway, you’re _basically_ my little brother at this point. And sisters care about family. That’s how it works.” She put her hands on her hips to emphasize her point.

Oscar’s eyes were wide and wet. “You… consider me family?”

Ruby beamed. “Of course!”

Oscar blinked, a few tears falling down his cheeks. He grimaced and ducked his head, wiping at them with a quiet, sad chuckle. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

Uncle Qrow walked back over to them before Ruby could say anything, and she felt the tension rise as Oscar and Uncle Qrow met each other’s gazes.

“Good to see you, kid,” said Uncle Qrow, offering him a little smile.

Oscar returned the smile. “You too, Qrow. Hear you all did pretty good, today.” Most of the tension bled out, but some remained. Ruby hoped they’d get to talk it out, sooner rather than later.

“Ah, we didn’t do anything, really,” said Ruby, waving him off. “It was mostly the Ace Ops.”

“Speaking of which,” said Uncle Qrow, voice low. He nodded in the direction of General Ironwood and Ruby looked up to see the Ace Ops standing to the side of General Ironwood, all of them glancing in their direction. “Heads up.”

“Could I get all of you over here, please?” asked General Ironwood. Team RRAYNBOW, plus Uncle Qrow, headed over to General Ironwood, spreading out behind Ruby. Oscar stood to her right, Jaune to her left. It was good to have everyone together again. “Thank you.”

“You want us out tonight or tomorrow, sir?” asked Clover.

“Tomorrow,” said General Ironwood. “Get on the ground in Mantle, in plainclothes. Take Marrow, he knows Mantle better than the rest of you, combined.” He nodded to Marrow, whose tail wagged happily behind him. “Tonight, Clover, I need you with an ear in Atlas. There are some trade deals being talked about in the tech industry. You’ve got access from your parents. Get in and let me know what they’re doing. I need to know where my missing tech is going.”

“Yessir,” said Clover, with a sharp nod.

“Then the rest of you are dismissed for tonight. Good work today,” said General Ironwood, to the rest of the Ace Ops. The five nodded, turned, and headed out. Harriet flashed finger guns at Ruby and the others and Ruby felt herself relax a fraction. Maybe Harriet was only like that on-duty. She seemed cool! And the semblance stuff was really interesting and she wanted to talk about it more. Ruby just wished she was less…

_That._

Abrasive.

“And congratulations are in order to all of you, as well,” said General Ironwood, nodding to Ruby and the others. “I’ve been told you did spectacularly for your first mission. Well done.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Jaune, nodding. “I can’t say we really did much, though.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Mostly we just watched.”

“Observation on the field is key to learning,” said General Ironwood. “Don’t sell yourself short.” He glanced at Uncle Qrow. “How’re you holding up?”

“Fine,” said Uncle Qrow, with an easy shrug. He was still pale, and the bags under his eyes were far more prominent than they had been when he’d shown up at the start of the mission, but he was still on his feet, so Ruby counted that as a victory. “Your golden boy had my back.” General Ironwood gave a little snort at that. “So, what’s up with Mantle?” He folded his arms across his chest.

Everyone turned their attention to General Ironwood, who sighed and pulled out his Scroll. He projected a hologram above it, revealing snippets of multiple crime reports and news clippings.

“Someone in Mantle is killing my detractors – public leaders and vocal citizens who speak out against Atlas and myself,” said General Ironwood. “It has… caused some tension, to say the least.” He glanced over them all and met Ruby’s gaze. “I wasn’t certain it was a pattern, at first. But we’ve had multiple murders in the last week, and I’m beginning to suspect they’re picking up speed.”

Uncle Qrow hummed. “Guess your opposition in Mantle dropping dead isn’t a good look for you, huh?” he asked.

General Ironwood dropped the hologram and put his Scroll back in his pocket. “I’m not really worried about _my_ public image, to be frank. I think someone is trying to frame me and, by extension, Atlas. And it’s working.” He grimaced. “I thought I was aware of the issues in Mantle, but when you informed me that there wasn’t a military presence on the streets, I sent Clover and the others to see what was going on. They reported back and informed me that all of the reports are being falsified.”

Ruby stared. “What… what does that mean?”

“It means whoever is killing my detractors is also a hacker,” said General Ironwood. Ruby’s stomach dropped. A hacker. Like… “Presumably the very one who attacked my systems in Vale.”

…She’d been afraid of that. Ruby swallowed.

“What do you need us to do?” she asked. “Do you want us to like, form a rally or something? Make banners? Give testimonies? Do you want us on the ground to tackle this guy head on?” She mimed punching a few times and wobbled when she over-extended. “Or are the Ace Ops gonna handle that and we should help fix your reputation?”

General Ironwood shook his head. “There are many missions in Mantle that I’m certain could use your help. My reputation… doesn’t matter. Mantle does.”

Ruby blinked. “What do you mean?”

“He means it doesn’t matter if people hate him,” said Blake, folding her arms. “He’s willing to become their scapegoat for a chance at unity.” Her ears swivelled back. “And he’s wrong.” Her voice was hard.

“If uniting the people of Mantle means turning them against me, Miss Belladonna, then I don’t think it truly matters what happens to my reputation,” said General Ironwood, diplomatically. It was the same tone Clover had used, before.

“Yes, it does,” said Blake, pushing to the front of the group. Jaune sidestepped her. “What your people think of you is incredibly important. You’re they’re leader.” She took a breath, visibly steeling herself. “Hate, fear, it’s all the same to the Grimm,” said Blake, gesturing with sharp motions. “If you turn your people against you, General Ironwood, you’ll turn this kingdom into a beacon for the Grimm. And your detractors will be the least of our problems when facing an army that never tires.”

“Not to mention that level of dissonance would create riots, destruction,” said Ren. “Breeding more fear, more hatred.”

Blake nodded. “Dictatorship and anarchy have that in common.” Her voice was sharp, firm, and with an edge of mania that matched the look in her eyes. “Either one is an extreme we can’t afford if we want to keep people safe.”

General Ironwood narrowed his eyes at Blake, thoughtful, not questioning. “You speak from experience, I take it?” he asked.

Blake drew in a deep breath. Ruby glanced up at her. Blake’s ears were swivelled back on her head, and when she spoke, Ruby could see her teeth from the way Blake’s upper lip had curled under itself.

“ _Adam_ did something similar,” she said, spitting his name like poison. “He controlled people with fear, not caring if they respected or liked him. Only that they listened. Our travelling band of merry thieves and murderers,” the lilt to her voice made Ruby cringe away from Blake. That false upbeat snark that Yang adopted from time to time as well, “was always drawing Grimm. We had to be constantly vigilant, and plenty of us still died.” She lifted her chin and met General Ironwood’s gaze with her own hard, golden one. “If you let Atlas and Mantle hate you, you’ll be doing the same. And people will die for it.”

“My mom always said, you can’t feed others from an empty kitchen,” said Jaune, lifting his hand. “Which means you have to take care of yourself to take care of others. You need to take care of your reputation so that Mantle and Atlas don’t turn into pits of negativity for Grimm.” He winced. “Sir.”

General Ironwood sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Everything they were saying made sense, if you asked Ruby, but it was all stuff she’d heard before.

“No, no, you’re right,” said General Ironwood.

“Not to mention that stupid embargo,” said Weiss. “You realize it’s not actually doing anything, right?” She folded her arms, lifting one hand near her face, eyebrows up. “ _Sir._ ” The corner of Uncle Qrow’s mouth twitched up. “I got out, and our hacker-slash-murderer got in. What is it that you’re hoping to accomplish with it, _precisely_?” The twist of her words had Ruby’s eyes widening. Wow. Everyone was willing to talk back to authority figures now. …Though it made sense.

“I was _hoping_ it would keep the enemy out and us safe inside, but… you bring up a good point,” said General Ironwood. “If the enemy is here, then the embargo has failed its purpose. I’m not sure we have the resources to lift it but…”

“No harm in trying,” said Uncle Qrow. He stepped forward, sliding around them all like he was barely more than a breeze, and laid a hand across General Ironwood’s shoulder. “We could give it a look, see what resources it’d take. It’s been a while since I looked over military shit, but I remember enough to be useful.” He cracked a crooked smile. “Plus, I’m sure Clover would love the chance to prove he’s not just a pretty face.”

Nora leaned toward Ren. “I mean… isn’t he?” Her voice was loud enough to carry. Uncle Qrow smirked. General Ironwood sighed.

“Right, I think that’s worth taking a look at,” he said, nodding. “And more trades happening _would_ allow us to hide the creation of the communications tower more easily. Although, there is quite a bit of Dust needed, and resuming trade could greatly slow our chances…”

Weiss hummed and leaned forward, her arm across Nora’s shoulder. “You know, I hear Dust goes missing _all the time_ these days.” She shrugged. “And we do have a resident expert in stealing SDC property on our team.”

Everyone looked at Blake, who flushed.

“I… could be convinced,” she said, slowly.

Uncle Qrow pulled his hand from General Ironwood’s shoulder and grinned at Blake. “Looks like you and I will have a chance to work together, after all.” He stuffed his thumbs in his belt loops. “If that’s all right with you.”

Blake looked him up and down and hummed, shrugging. “You’ll do.”

Uncle Qrow’s grin widened. “Best compliment I’ve heard all week.”

General Ironwood narrowed his eyes. “That hardly seems fair after—” He stopped, face colouring. Uncle Qrow’s face coloured as well. Neither man looked at each other.

Nora snorted. “Well, call me crazy, but I think I had it right the first time with these two.”

“Nora,” said Uncle Qrow, pinching the bridge of his nose.

She beamed at him. “Yes? Mr. Dad?”

“I— _what_?” Qrow stared at her, face wrinkled like Nora had two heads. “You know what, we’ll come back to that. In like… ten years. Or not.” He scrubbed his face. “Jim and I have history, kid. Don’t be weird about it.”

“Or what, you’ll ground me?” asked Nora.

Qrow folded his arms. “I’ll chuck you out of an airship and make you walk back to Atlas.”

Nora blanched. “Aw, come on! I’m just being silly!” She waved her arms in the air. “Ren, tell him. Tell him I’m just silly.”

Ren stared at her. He raised one eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve no idea _what_ you’re talking about, Nora.”

Nora puffed out her cheeks, pouted, and folded her arms across her chest. “Meanie.”

General Ironwood shook his head, but he was smiling, and Ruby hadn’t seen him or Uncle Qrow look that happy in a long time (or ever, in General Ironwood’s case), so Ruby knew it was all fine.

Then, General Ironwood frowned and turned away from them, one gloved hand raising to tap his earpiece. Ruby looked up at Uncle Qrow, who was smiling at General Ironwood with a soft look in his eyes that made Ruby’s heart feel warm and gooey.

Huh.

“What?” General Ironwood’s voice was sharp. “He’s—” A sigh. “No, it’s fine. Let him land. I’ll deal with him myself.” A low pitch to his voice that betrayed anger. Ruby swallowed.

“More Mantle problems?” guessed Oscar.

General Ironwood shook his head. “No, this is an Atlas problem.” He turned fully toward them and met Weiss’ gaze. “Your father is here.” Weiss tensed and took a step back. Blake and Yang were immediately in front of her. A human shield. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to.”

Weiss took an audible, shaky breath. “No, I can see him. I’ll be okay.” Blake and Yang stepped aside as she stepped forward.

“Are you sure?” asked Ruby. She laid a hand on Weiss’ shoulder. “We won’t blame you, Weiss. We’re here for you.”

“Yeah, all of us,” said Jaune, coming up next to Ruby.

Weiss smiled at them, soft and small. “It’s fine, really. Besides,” her smile turned a little wicked, “I want to see the look on his face when he realizes I came back for a reason _other_ than grovelling at his feet.”

“That’s my girl,” said Yang, slinging an arm around her shoulders. She grinned. “Kick his ass and take names, Ice Queen.”

Weiss leaned into Yang with a smile.

“Why is it that everyone but me gets to call you Ice Queen?” asked Jaune, folding his arms.

Yang grinned. “Gay rights.”

Jaune blinked, then sighed and nodded. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair. Gay rights it is.”

General Ironwood cleared his throat. “All right, well, we should get to the landing platform, then. Uh, actually, Oscar, if you wouldn’t mind showing Miss Valkyrie the canteen truck? I’m sure she’s hungry.”

Nora cheered. “Food!”

“Yeah, sure, come on Nora,” said Oscar, gesturing with one hand. Ren followed after Nora and Jaune flashed a smile at Ruby, almost apologetic. Ruby waved him off. Dividing the team made sense. Keep Weiss’ original teammates with her for the confrontation, but minimize risk but removing the others.

General Ironwood was smart. It was exactly what Ruby would have done.

“Go, we’ll meet up in a bit,” she said, voice soft. Jaune’s smile broadened and he jogged after the three. Ruby sighed and looked to her friends, her sisters, and smiled at them. “Let’s go.”

Together, she, General Ironwood, Uncle Qrow, Yang, Blake, and Weiss headed to the landing platform where Jacques Schnee’s gaudy ship, covered in SDC logos, was gliding down to the ground. General Ironwood took a few steps in front of them, leaving Ruby with her friends on one side of her and Uncle Qrow on the other. He had his arms folded tight against his chest, a deep frown scarring his face.

Ruby looked at Weiss, who clenched her hands behind her back. She was visibly working her jaw and a strand of hair hung in her face. Ruby fought the urge to brush it out of the way. Weiss would probably jump ten feet in the air if she was touched, right now.

The ship touched down and even before the gangplank was fully extended and the doors fully open, Jacques Schnee was yelling.

“How dare you, James Ironwood!” shouted Jacques, stomping down the gangplank. “What gives you the right to play _God_ in Atlas? Bad enough this damned embargo is destroying my business, but to seize my _private property_? When the Council hears about this—”

“Actually, the Council already as,” said General Ironwood, lifting his chin. “And because this is a private military operation, it didn’t even require a vote.”

Jacques growled. “Didn’t require a vote—”

“Besides, I’ve actually been discussing lifting the embargo, given the current situation in Atlas,” said General Ironwood. He tucked his arms behind him in parade rest and tilted his head to one side. “Perhaps _that_ would appease you, Jacques?”

Jacques seethed, a sneer on his face. “Don’t patronize me, _James_. I won’t be pacified by some false promise of returning the business that _you_ ruined in the first place.” He stabbed a finger in James’ face and James raised an eyebrow. “When I get that Council seat, you’re going to regret this transgression. I’ve given you plenty of leeway as of late, but I think you’ve forgotten who your friends truly are.”

“No, Jacques, I don’t think I have,” replied General Ironwood.

“How _dare_ —”

“You should try and relax, _Jackie_. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel at this rate,” said Uncle Qrow. He swaggered up to Jacques and General Ironwood with his thumbs in his pockets, hips swaying with his motions. He stopped level with General Ironwood and lifted one arm, resting his elbow on the general’s shoulder. “Isn’t stress bad for a man your age? Especially one without active aura?” From Ruby’s angle, she could see the sides of General Ironwood and Uncle Qrow’s faces. Uncle Qrow was grinning, crooked, feral, and predatory.

Ruby bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning as well. Watching Uncle Qrow take down people like this was _way_ too much fun.

“Besides, Jim here is right,” said Uncle Qrow, jerking a thumb toward General Ironwood while Jacques seethed, presumably at the mispronunciation of his name. “He hasn’t forgotten who his friends are. And he’s got me, right here.” Uncle Qrow leaned forward and his grin turned dark, a shadow falling over his eyes like the drop of a curtain on a stage. “ _We don’t need you._ ” The low pitch of his voice rose the hairs on the back of Ruby’s neck.

“Your uncle scares me sometimes,” whispered Weiss.

“You and me both,” mumbled Blake.

“He’s _fine_ ,” said Ruby, waving one arm. “Harmless as a kitten.” Blake raised an eyebrow. “A chipmunk.”

“Pretty sure Nora got in a fight with a chipmunk, once,” said Yang.

“Pretty sure she lost,” added Blake.

Ruby sighed, slumping. There was just no winning with these people.

Jacques huffed where he stood across from General Ironwood and Uncle Qrow. “I see the riffraff is once again tainting Atlas with his lowbrow ways.” He lifted his chin and stared down his nose at Uncle Qrow, who only rolled his eyes. “Planning on getting drunk and hitting on people you can’t possibly be worthy of, again?”

Uncle Qrow smirked. “I gave up drinking. And flirting, for that matter. Not that you ever had anything to worry about.” He leered at Jacques, who shuddered.

“I’d certainly _hope_ not.”

Ruby watched, eyes narrowing, as Jacques glanced between Uncle Qrow and General Ironwood, a furrow to his brow and a wrinkle in his face.

“If you think you’re more important than _I_ am,” started Jacques.

Uncle Qrow’s grin was crooked and predatory. “Oh, I don’t _think_ it, I _know_ it. Face it _Jackie_ , you’re obsolete. Jim’s never needed you, and he’s certainly not starting now.” Uncle Qrow shrugged. “And besides, we’ve got the better Schnee anyway.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, toward Weiss, who went rigid.

Jacques glanced over General Ironwood’s shoulder, his eyes growing wide and face contorting into a sneer as he pushed past the two men to glare at Weiss.

“When did _you_ get back in Atlas?” He hissed. He shot a glare at General Ironwood. “Bad enough you’re stealing my property and ruining my business, now you’ve roped my missing daughter into your bullshit?”

Weiss shoved forward, a growl in her throat. “ _I_ chose to help General Ironwood. _I_ chose to come back. Just like I chose to leave, _Father_.” She folded her arms across her chest and glowered with all the force of her first-day-at-Beacon self. “Frankly, I’m surprised you noticed I left.”

Jacques shoved a finger in her face. He towered over her, and Ruby saw the tremble in Weiss’ fingers where she clenched her hands against her arms.

“Don’t test me _child_. I know precisely what kind of girl you are.” He stepped forward and Weiss stepped back. “You are a disgrace to your family. Just like your damned older bro—”

“That’s enough.” General Ironwood’s voice was hard. He loomed near Jacques, face as hard as his voice. “I let you land here once as a courtesy, Jacques. I won’t be so kind, next time. This is a military operation and _you aren’t military_.” General Ironwood took another step forward. They were almost chest to chest when Jacques turned around.

“That’s polite for ‘get the fuck out’,” chimed Uncle Qrow, stepping up next to General Ironwood and folding his arms across his chest. He cocked an eyebrow at Jacques. “’Less you wanna deal with the military.”

Jacques gaze slid across General Ironwood, then Uncle Qrow, then Uncle Qrow’s clothes. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed above his nose. Ruby swallowed. What was he thinking? What was he noticing?

She didn’t like that look.

“You know,” said Jacques, turning back toward Weiss, his voice that slimy quality that made Ruby’s neck hairs stand on end. “Your mother and brother were _devastated_ when you left. She refused to come out of her room for days.” Weiss’ face went slack, the blood draining from her cheeks. “And Whitley… well, you know how he gets when he’s upset…” Jacques smiled, dark and twisted. “Always _beating himself up._ ”

Weiss stumbled back a few steps, a hand against her heart. Blake hurried forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. Weiss smiled at her and Blake dropped her hand, tangling her fingers with Weiss’.

Jacques snorted. “So, this is the team you’ve abandoned your family for?”

Weiss squared her shoulders as Yang and Ruby stepped up next to her, all four glaring. “I haven’t _abandoned_ anyone. This is my family. And you’re not welcome in it.”

“I think it’s time for you to go,” said Uncle Qrow. Jacques glared and stalked back toward his ship, up the gangplank. Uncle Qrow called after him. “Might wanna count your friends, _old sport_. Looks like you’re running short on them.” His chuckle followed Jacques up the gangplank and into the ship.

As it took off, Weiss slumped against Ruby, her eyes closing and her entire body trembling as she rested a hand against her forehead.

“You okay?” asked Yang.

Weiss shook her head and let Yang pull her off Ruby, dragging her into a tight hug. Weiss buried her face into Yang’s chest and let out a quiet whimper as Yang rested her cheek upon Weiss’ head. Ruby rubbed Weiss’ back, looking to Blake.

“I left them,” whispered Weiss. “Mom, Whitley. He’s… he’s hurting them.”

“Is that what he was saying?” asked Blake. Weiss nodded. Blake growled. “ _Bastard._ ”

“What do you need?” asked Yang.

Weiss sniffled. “I want to save them.” A hesitation. “I _need_ to save them.”

“Okay,” said Blake. “Whatever you need, we’ll help you.”

“Team RRAYNBOW has your back, Weiss,” said Ruby, rubbing circles on her back. “We won’t let you do this alone. I promise.”

“Thank you,” said Weiss. She lifted her head to look at Uncle Qrow. “Jackie?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned. “Sometimes I call him Jacques-Ass, just to switch it up.” Weiss snickered, a hand over her mouth. “Got a whole list of them, if you want.”

“Please,” murmured Weiss. She looked to General Ironwood. “Thank you, for standing up for Winter.”

General Ironwood nodded. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

A rumbling of a truck drew everyone’s attention and they turned to watch one roll up. Ruby spotted the others heading toward them, arms laden down with snacks and drinks, with Nora bouncing up and down and talking to Oscar about something or other. Everyone was laughing. Ruby smiled. At least they were having a good time.

The truck stopped and Winter stepped out, glaring at the ship as it flew back to Atlas.

“Father was here,” said Weiss.

Winter scowled, glaring at the sky. “I noticed. How was it?”

Weiss folded her arms. “He’s using Mom and Whitley as pawns to try and force me into going back to him.” A pause. “He also still refuses to acknowledge you as a woman without cameras or civilians around.”

Winter snorted. “Oh, that’s nothing new. When I went to the company during your first year at Beacon, he was awful about it.” She smoothed down her hair with one hand and Ruby noticed, for the first time, the barest hint of black roots against her scalp, visible in the white of her hair. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was seeing things. “Are you all right?”

Weiss sighed. “I’ll be okay.” But there was still the tremble in her fingers and her lower lip that had Ruby on edge. Weiss wasn’t okay. She was faking it. But Ruby wasn’t about to call her out in public. She’d wait until later. They were probably all going back to the dorms soon, anyway.

“So… are we allowed to go back and sleep yet?” asked Yang, folding her arms behind her head.

“Actually—” started Winter, but before she could say anything else, something dropped out of the sky. Ruby and the others yelled, leaping back as the air whipped around them. They all fell over, tumbling like dominoes.

“Surprise!” The shout had Ruby shooting back to her feet.

“Penny!” She beamed at Penny, seeing the hologram of ‘Congratulations’ hanging above her head, between her raised hands. Confetti littered the ground. “What are you doing here?”

Penny blinked and cocked her head to one side. “Have we not started yet?” she asked, looking to Winter.

Winter shook her head. “They were sidetracked.”

“Oooh,” said Penny, nodding.

“Started what?” asked Ruby, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head.

“It’s a surprise!” said Penny, bouncing in place. Nora and Jaune both cheered. Oscar, in the corner of Ruby’s vision, looked vaguely sheepish. He knew something, then.

General Ironwood stepped in and cleared his throat. “We’ll need to head up to the coliseum for that. I’ve got a ship ready to go.”

“I’ll race you there!” said Penny, saluting General Ironwood. Her jet boots started to glow and she waved as she took off. “See you soon.”

“Right then,” said General Ironwood, a little smile on his face as he watched Penny take off before returning his gaze to all of them. “Let’s get going.”

Ruby nodded, nose and brow wrinkled, and followed him, Winter, and Uncle Qrow to the ship. Her team followed behind her.

Whatever it was, it must be big to get them on the coliseum.

Mostly, she was just looking forward to having everyone together after a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be greatly appreciated.


	12. If "RWBY" Not Found, Then Sum All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something completely different! Remember how I said the story was expanding outside of the main crew in Atlas? Yeah, it's going to now. It's a long one folks.
> 
> Also yes the title is a pun based on an if/then statement. No it doesn't actually work, but it's close enough for my purposes. Look I code outside of writing. I'm not doing it _in_ writing.
> 
> Keeping with the theme of "you send me hate about trans characters and I spite you", Neptune is trans now because I got no less than four messages all going "why is everyone [slur]?" And also a comment that Seamonkeys was the only "normal" teen ship. Ergo, more fucking trans characters. Fuck you. :D
> 
> Consider this partially a _Before the Dawn_ rewrite I guess, too, because I have... a lot of feelings about that book and its characterization of Sun. I'll spare you from them. I do have a reason for having Fox be so chatty in this chapter, and I'm sure I'll explain it later if it doesn't become obvious on its own. Cheers!

_Sun stood across from his teammates, hesitating before he spoke to them._

_“We’re leaving for Haven, tomorrow,” said Scarlet. “You ready?”_

_Sun shook his head and rubbed one arm with the other hand. “I don’t think I should go back with you.”_

_“What, why not?” asked Neptune._

_“Blake,” said Sage, before Sun could. “It’s about Blake, isn’t it?”_

_Sun nodded. He met each of his teammates’ gazes, one after the other, before he spoke. “Look, you guys are great, and I love you to pieces, but you have each other. Blake… she’s got no one right now. Her team is gone. She’s convinced everything is her fault.” Sun yanked at his hair, wrapping his tail around his waist. “The White Fang, Adam Taurus. She’s_ scared _. She’s hurting. And I want to help her.”_

_“Play knight in shining armour to her damsel in distress?” asked Scarlet, putting one hand on their hip._

_Sun shook his head. “It’s not about that. I know you all joke, but I don’t feel that way about Blake. I just—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “I want her to be happy.”_

_“And you’re asking us if it’s okay for you to go after her,” said Sage._

_Sun nodded. He looked at Neptune and cracked a smile at him. “I learned my lesson, after I took off for the tournament without saying anything.” Neptune nodded, though he looked forlorn. Sun yanked him into a hug and Neptune clung to him, sniffling._

_His shirt was getting wet, but Sun pretended he didn’t notice._

_“I love you guys,” whispered Sun, rubbing Neptune’s back. “I’m sorry I have to leave. But…”_

_“You have to,” said Neptune, voice soft. “She needs you more than we do.”_

_Scarlet rested a hand on Neptune’s back, fingers tangling with Sun’s._

_Sage rested a hand on Sun’s shoulder and smiled at them all._

_“We’ll be fine,” said Sage. “Go save the day, oh great leader. We’ll be in Haven when you’ve put her back together.”_

_“Take care of her,” said Scarlet. “After everything…”_

_Sun nodded. “I know. Take care of each other. And Scarlet?” Scarlet cocked an eyebrow. “You’re in charge while I’m gone.”_

_Scarlet grinned. “Of course,” they said. They flipped their bangs from their eyes. “I’m the natural choice.”_

_Neptune huffed against Sun’s shoulder and leaned back, wiping at his eyes. “You guys make me emotional.”_

_“You’re_ always _emotional,” said Scarlet, drily._

_“It’s part of what we love about you,” chimed Sage._

_Sun hummed. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, then.”_

_“You better,” said Neptune. “Can’t be Team SSSN without our personal sunny leader.” He ruffled Sun’s hair and Sun laughed._

_By morning, they were separated, and it would be almost a year before he saw them again._

* * *

Shade Academy wasn’t Sun’s first choice. Nor his second. Definitely his third, though. Which fit, considering his fourth choice wasn’t even open to non-Atlesian citizens at the moment, and he didn’t envy the faunus who attended school in one of the most notoriously racist kingdoms in all of Remnant.

Atlas could make Mistral look tolerant, some days.

Meeting up with Team CFVY hadn’t been part of the plan, but considering Sun rarely made plans, he wasn’t too bothered by the change. After helping Team CFVY out in the desert, the two teams made their way back to Shade Academy, with Sun filling his team in on Vacuo culture, and everyone on what had happened since they’d all left Vale, as best he could.

“So… whatever’s going on,” said Coco, tugging her beret low on her forehead, “Team RWBY is trying to handle it?”

“Them and JNPR,” said Sun, nodding. They were close to the city now, the shadow of Shade Academy cast over the Weeping Wall and reaching out toward them, as though to welcome Sun back to the desert kingdom.

“What’s left of JNPR,” murmured Velvet. Everyone winced. Sun rubbed the back of his shoulder and managed a light chuckle.

“Yeah, well, they’ve picked up this cute farm boy, so I think they’ve got a fourth, now? Said his name’s Oscar. He’s about the same age Ruby was when she started Beacon? Maybe a little younger. So I guess both teams have a child prodigy now!” Or at least, that’s what he assumed, because why else would a child be part of the team?

Though he’d had some pretty funky things to say, the one time Sun had spoken to him. Maybe he was some kind of baby monk?

“Feels like every team has a prodigy these days,” said Coco.

Fox grinned. “That makes me our prodigy.” He flipped his bangs off his forehead. “Couldn’t tell you who SSSN’s is, though.”

“Scarlet,” said three of the four members of SSSN in unison. Scarlet flushed, but preened all the same. If they had feathers, they’d fluff them. Sometimes, secretly, Sun imagined what sorts of faunus his teammates might have been. Scarlet would be a parrot, obviously. Sage struck him as a panther, like Ghira, and Neptune? Neptune was trickier. Something with ears, definitely. Little ones.

He never said those things out loud though. It wasn’t exactly socially acceptable to go around picturing your friends as marginalized identities (well, more so than they already were, anyway).

“You are _not_ our prodigy,” said Coco, shooting a glare at Fox over her dark sunglasses. “We’re a _team_ of prodigies, Fox. That’s why we’re so damn cool.”

Fox snorted. “No points for modesty, Cocoa Beans.”

“You’d lose that contest too, Foxy,” Coco shot back.

“Modesty’s not one of my virtues,” said Fox. He slung an arm around Scarlet’s shoulders, only barely missing at the last second – Scarlet corrected – and laughed, loud and with his head thrown back. Sun couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Fox speak this much. He’d always heard rumours that Fox was selectively mute, or just hated speaking. But he’d been chatty ever since the two teams had met up. Maybe it was the cool weather of the dawn. Maybe it was the number of people around – because it made it easier for him to let his guard down, knowing there were plenty of people around to keep their eyes out where he couldn’t – or maybe he was just so sleep drunk he no longer gave a shit about things like silence and watchfulness.

Whatever it was, Sun wasn’t complaining. Fox had a nice, mellow voice, and it had the same, gentle, sand-roughened rasp that reminded Sun of _home._

“Are you joining Shade Academy, then?” asked Yatsuhashi. He was a few steps back from the others, walking alongside Sage. The two giants of the group seemed to be keeping watch for the others. Sun was glad, he hadn’t slept great on the ships – hard to, when Neptune was clinging to his arm, face in his shoulder, praying to gods that Sun couldn’t name in a language he didn’t know.

Water.

Sun didn’t bother him about it. He knew better.

They all did.

You heard someone wake up screaming enough times and you stopped asking questions.

“That’s the plan,” said Scarlet. “Our fearless leader here finally came back and decided we were too out of shape for his liking. Dragged us into this desert to ‘toughen us up’.” Scarlet huffed. “Can’t say I’m a fan of this place. No offense, Fox.”

Fox hummed.

Sun pouted. “What about me! I take offense!” He folded his arms. He’d asked if they wanted to go to Shade after Haven closed down. He’d had long talks with all of them and their parents. Neptune’s moms had been the hardest to convince, apparently Neptune’s mental health had taken a nosedive after Sun had gone to Menagerie, but Neptune hadn’t wanted to be split from his team. Sage’s dad had been all for it, and Scarlet’s parents had wished them all luck and made sure to pack extra snacks for everyone for the trip.

Sun was particularly fond of their mom’s snickerdoodles.

Scarlet gave Sun a flat look. “If the people of this kingdom are all like _you_ , then it’s a wonder they’ve survived this long.”

Sun’s pout deepened and he huffed. “I think I’m pretty great.”

“You are,” said Neptune, patting him on the shoulder. “And we’re all happy to be here.”

“Obviously,” said Scarlet, “but if I don’t bust your balls, who will?”

Coco stuck up her hand. “I’ll do it.”

Sun shuddered. “Please don’t.” Knowing Coco, she’d probably take it literally. And while Sun wasn’t sure if he ever wanted kids, he definitely didn’t want the option taken away from him.

“Is there even any room at the academy?” asked Sage. Sun glanced over his shoulder to see Sage looking at Yatsu, brow furrowed. “I’ve heard quite a few of both Haven’s and Beacon’s students went there, after both battles.” A heavy silence. Sage grimaced, obviously regretting bringing it up. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Velvet. “We’ve talked about it quite a bit and… well, we can’t change the past. All we can do is work toward a better future. You know?”

“Yeah,” said Sun. “I get that. Kind of a Vacuo way of looking at things.”

“Well, they’re not wrong,” said Coco, pushing up her sunglasses. The sun was getting higher, though it’d be a long time before it crested the school. They had maybe twenty minutes before they reached the Weeping Wall and entered Vacuo’s only city, proper. The sand rolled and pushed beneath Sun’s feet. The sun beat off the granules as if in a contest to see what would break first. He wondered if there was any water left, or if Sage could find any. Handy semblance, that one, in Vacuo. More so than anywhere else – except maybe Mantle, but Sun had never been, so he wouldn’t know. “I dunno if the headmaster is going to let you guys – can I say guys?”

“Yeah,” said Scarlet, “just don’t call me ‘bro’.”

“Easy enough,” said Coco, nodding. “Yeah, I dunno if Headmaster Theodore will even let you in. It’s… pretty cramped in Shade, right now.”

Sun grimaced. He hadn’t thought about that. Where were they all gonna sleep? He could sleep in the streets, but Scarlet was used to having a bed and Neptune… Sun glanced at his partner and fought a grimace. Neptune was too soft for Vacuo. Way, _way_ too soft. And he’d known that when he’d first suggested transferring to Shade, too. But it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. They had to train.

He didn’t know what was coming. But the world was in pieces and it was going to get worse before it got better. Yeah, Team RWBY and JNPR (JNR? JNOR? The kid’s name was Oscar, right?) were working toward something in Atlas, but Sun wasn’t about to be left out in the cold. Or, heat, rather. Whatever they were doing, he and his team were going to be ready to help, just as soon as they knew what to do.

“The headmaster is a reasonable man,” said Fox, stretching his arms above his head. His scars – and there were more now, Sun noticed – seemed starker than usual, the hot sun having turned Fox even darker than he’d been in Vale. “Besides, what’s he going to do, kick them into the streets?”

A pregnant silence. Fox sighed. “Right, I’m the native. No, he wouldn’t do that.”

“He might,” said Sun, rubbing the back of his neck. “The big guy isn’t fond of uh… traitors? I guess?”

“Since when are you a traitor?” asked Neptune.

Sun winced. “By Vacuo standards? Since I left to go to Haven instead of Shade. We don’t take kindly to stuff like that. He might be holding a grudge.”

“He didn’t hold one against Fox,” said Velvet.

“Fox is Fox,” said Sun. “He’s, you know, _useful_. Also, diversity points. Pretty sure you get a whole flock of people on your ass if you tell the blind dude he’s not allowed at school.”

Fox hummed. “True,” he agreed. “But I like to think I’m worth the effort.”

“Oh, no argument there, dude,” said Sun. He’d seen Fox fight. The things he could do with aura were incredible. Plus, he could blow up a Grimm by hitting it _with another Grimm._ Sun wanted that kind of skill. As it stood, he wasn’t that good at fighting… anything. Grimm, people, angry militia. Menagerie had proven as much.

“You’re plenty useful,” said Sage, ruffling Sun’s hair from behind. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Who says he was talking about himself?” asked Scarlet, drily. “Don’t think we can stand up to Shade standards, Mr. Hot Shot?” Scarlet’s tone was teasing, but it made Sun stop all the same. Everyone got a few steps forward before seemingly realizing Sun wasn’t following. They stopped and looked at him.

“Sun?” asked Velvet.

Sun took a breath. “It’s not… that.” His words were slow. “Not quite, anyway. It’s just…”

“You don’t think we belong here,” said Scarlet, folding their arms. They raised an eyebrow at Sun, who shook his head.

“No, no. I mean, you’re gonna do _great_ here, Scarlet. I mean, this is the one kingdom in Remnant no one’s gonna bat an eye over your pronouns and shit. Vacuo is way chill about gender. It’s fucking _weird_ being in other kingdoms after this one, you know, when it comes to sexuality and gender and relationships. I mean, we’ve got legal polyamorous marriage. Who else has that?” No one. He’d learned that when he’d asked about it at Haven and gotten a _lot_ of weird looks.

Granted, Mistral and Atlas didn’t even have legal faunus-human marriages. So, he should have expected it. But man, _that_ had been a rude wake-up call, too.

“Wait, Vacuo is cool with gender?” asked Scarlet. “Seriously?” A pause. “Is that why you introduced yourself with your pronouns, way back?”

Sun nodded. “Yeah! It’s pretty common in Vacuo to do that unless you wear pins. We’ve got symbols for a ton of pronouns that people wear all over their clothes and stuff – you should put them in your clothes, the they/them one suits your look – and if you don’t you usually introduce yourself with pronouns. It’s like… we already deal with so much, and we know ourselves so well, so if someone says they’re something other than what you might expect, you listen to them.” Sun shrugged. “It’s probably one of the best parts of Vacuo, honestly, that and faunus and humans can date without weird looks.”

“It is nice,” said Velvet, softly, her ears down, “to see so many relationships here that the other kingdoms would kick up a fuss about.”

Sun nodded. “Yeah, so it’s not… _you_ that I’m worried about.” Slowly, he turned his gaze to Neptune, who slumped.

“Oh come on, what did I do now?” asked Neptune. “There’s no water here, so I’m fine. My clothes breathe, so I can handle the heat. My goggles are reflective. I’ve got all the rules and shit for Shade memorized _and_ I’ve got my own personal Vacuo native to guide me around. What could I _possibly_ be screwing up?” Neptune put his hands on his hips.

Sun winced. “You’re too soft.”

Neptune blinked. Silence. He blinked again. Stuck a finger in his ear. “I’m too _what_?”

“Soft,” said Sun, looking down at the sand. It was nice sand. “You’re too soft?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Velvet, sounding scandalized. Sun winced. Yeah, he’d known this was coming. This was why he’d avoided this conversation. Except, by avoiding it, now he had to deal with _seven_ angry people, instead of three. Oops.

Sun rubbed the back of his neck. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, dude.”

“You said you liked that about me.” The betrayal in Neptune’s voice made it even worse.

“I do,” said Sun, waving his hands frantically, head snapping up to look at Neptune. “Fuck, I really do, dude. But that’s not how it works in Vacuo. We don’t show big emotions except maybe, you know, snark and sarcasm. We’re rough people, like the place we live. We don’t cry because it wastes water. We don’t mourn out loud because we lose so many people. And we don’t, at all, care about what other people think of us.”

Neptune slumped, shoulders dropping and head falling forward on his neck. He closed his eyes. “So what you’re saying is, I’m too much of a wuss for Vacuo.”

Sun’s stomach dropped. “No, dude, that’s not—” He stumbled forward, grabbed Neptune by the shoulders. Moved his hands to Neptune’s face and cupped his cheeks, lifting his head enough that Sun could look at him. Neptune had a few inches on him, something Sun never stopped being jealous of, but right now, they were about equal.

Weight of the world and all that.

“Neptune. Dude. You are easily my favourite person I’ve ever met. I didn’t know people like you _existed_ before I went to Mistral.” Sun’s voice was filled with awe as he spoke. “And I still can’t believe that someone as kind-hearted and selfless as you exists in a place like, well, Remnant. But you do.” Sun smiled at him and Neptune, hesitantly, returned it. “I don’t want you to change. I don’t want you to be anything other than you.” Sun sighed, sagging. “But I know if you’re not careful Vacuo’s gonna eat you alive. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me – the… the idea that you could change and be someone other than you.”

_“That’s so sweet,”_ said Velvet, voice breaking on tears that Sun could hear but didn’t turn to see. Neptune’s own eyes were filled with tears and he shuffled forward, hugging Sun tightly.

“I won’t change,” said Neptune, into Sun’s shoulder. “But I won’t let them hurt me, either. Don’t suppose you have any, uh, tips on how to act?” Sun cupped the back of Neptune’s head with one hand and pressed his face into the side of it, just above Neptune’s ear.

“Yeah, I’ve got a few ideas,” he whispered.

Coco cleared her throat. “Not to break up the love fest, but uh, _what the fuck_?” There was a laugh in her voice. “Didn’t you say you met this guy in Mistral? You sure you’re not like, long lost lovers or something?” The teasing in her voice had Sun chuckling, even as his cheeks heated.

“Ah, it’s not like that,” said Sun, waving her off as he pulled away from Neptune. “Nep’s just affectionate and touchy.”

“And Sun’s touch-starved from growing up in a literal emotional desert,” Neptune replied. Sun stuck his tongue out at him, Neptune returned the gesture.

“We’re not that different, Coco,” said Yatsuhashi. “Don’t judge. After all, how many dying declarations of friendship have we made?”

Velvet snickered. “Yatsu, if I don’t make it, tell Velvet I think her hunting outfit makes her butt look fat.” Velvet’s voice was breathy as she swooned into Yatsu’s arms.

“No, Coco!” said Yatsu, throwing one arm dramatically over his forehead while catching Velvet with the other. They both snickered.

Coco put her hands on her hips. “I did _not_ say that.”

“You were thinking it,” said Velvet, voice teasing.

Fox snorted. “I can assure you, she was _not_.” Coco went scarlet.

“Fox, shut up,” said Coco, stomping one foot in a gesture that made Sun miss Weiss.

“How would you even know that?” asked Sage, squinting at Fox.

“Guy’s gotta have some secrets,” said Fox, folding his arms behind his head. “We there yet?”

“Yeah, just about,” said Coco. “We’ll probably follow you up to talk to Headmaster Theodore after. We want to talk to him about the Crown and get authorization to go hunting for members.”

“Speaking of which, what is the Crown, anyway?” asked Scarlet. “I know you’ve mentioned you’re after them, but if we’re going to help, we need as much information as possible.”

Coco huffed. “I still don’t think we _need_ help.”

Sun rolled his eyes. “Need or not, we’re here, and we wanna help. Maybe you don’t need us, but at the very least, we’ll make it easier, you know? You’ve got another Vacuo native, a dude who can grow food out of the desert wastelands, a charismatic wannabe pirate, and… Neptune.”

Neptune pouted at him. “Thanks, dude.”

“Wait,” Yatsuhashi stopped and turned, looking at Sage. “ _That’s_ your semblance? You grow food?”

“Plants,” said Sage, “hence the name.” Team SSSN snickered. It was a long-standing joke that they all had stupidly appropriate names, given their personalities and semblances. And a slightly less longer running one that the only one of them that had ever changed their name was Neptune. Sun and Sage had never had a reason, and Scarlet liked the name their parents had given them, but Neptune had changed his when he’d come out – a fact that only Team SSSN, and Blake, were aware of.

In-jokes were great, but they were all careful to never out Neptune. Mostly because it was right, and partially because Scarlet would _slaughter_ anyone who even implied something about Neptune that Neptune didn’t want to be known.

Sun had seen them go against transphobes. He couldn’t imagine what Scarlet would do to _friends_ who pulled something like that.

Not that he ever would. Because he wasn’t an asshole.

“They’re some kind of crime syndicate in Vacuo,” said Velvet. “We still don’t know a lot about them – not their motives, or members, anything. We only know _anything_ because of our mission in the desert.” She tugged at her hair and gestured for them all to start walking. She nudged Fox and he kept pace with her. “We were discussing it before we found you, and we thought it might have to do with semblances?” Velvet scratched a space just beneath one of her bunny ears. One of them was folded down, the other had a bandage wrapped around it. “But we’re not certain.”

“Great, more questions,” said Sun, throwing his hands into the air. “Don’t suppose we can just beat people up to get answers?”

“We might,” said Coco. “If we’re lucky.” Noise in the background of their talking, now. The wall was closing in, its shadow brushing their feet as they stepped into the slight coolness of its presence. Ahead, the gate in the wall loomed, a handful of hunters watching with their weapons out. Traders spilled in and out of the city. Shade students hurried around them. Some kids ran and played against the edge of the wall.

Sun sighed. It was good to be back where he’d grown up. Even if he and Vacuo hadn’t always gotten along, he felt more at ease here than he did anywhere else in the world.

“It will most likely involve a lot of research, scouting, and recon work, though,” said Velvet. “I’m going to work with Yatsuhashi to map out the city so we can create a plan involving patrols and scouting missions. Perhaps Neptune would be best suited in the library? We have no idea what the Crown wants, but maybe the library holds information?”

“Probably,” said Fox. “It’s got plenty of books.”

“I can do that,” said Neptune, visibly perking at the mention of books. Sun grinned. Neptune was too predictable. But it was adorable as shit. “Yeah, research. Vacuo and the Crown.” He stroked his chin. “I already have some ideas on how I can work with that.”

“I could help with questioning,” said Scarlet. “Though, I’d like to get those pronoun symbols, first.” Sun nodded. Yeah, he could show them to Scarlet. Let them embroider them into their clothes. Well, more likely, Neptune would do the embroidering while Scarlet did his hair again. Neptune had been complaining about needing a haircut for literal weeks. It was driving Sun _crazy._ Especially because Neptune’s hair was maybe a couple inches longer than it was supposed to be, with the sides grown out only slightly. Some of the natural black of his hair was visible, too, so Scarlet would probably be dyeing it, again, as well.

Sun had never seen Neptune with more than just black roots. As if he was ashamed of his natural colour.

“You _are_ good at talking to people,” said Coco. “I’m sure Yatsu would be happy to help you with research, right big guy?”

Yatsu nodded. “I’d be honoured. From what I gathered, seeing you at the Beacon library, you are quite the scholar.”

Neptune beamed. “Dude, _thank you._ No one appreciates my genius.”

“You know books and nothing else. I wouldn’t call that genius,” said Scarlet.

“Which one of us has a transforming weapon, Scarlet?” said Neptune, folding his arms. “Who helped Sun fix his gunchucks when he broke them and who told him to pick a simpler weapon?”

Scarlet shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

“Ugh. Teenagers,” muttered Coco, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“We are _twenty_ ,” said Velvet, falling back to punch Coco in the shoulder. “Just because there isn’t a ‘one’ in front of our ages doesn’t make us better than them.”

Coco rolled her eyes, visibly mostly because she rolled her eyes with her whole body, something Sun had only seen in Weiss, before now, and said, “Well, duh, but at least we don’t _act_ our age.”

“I beg to differ,” said Fox.

“Then beg,” said Coco.

Fox grinned, all teeth, and laughed up into the sky. “Ooh, feisty. Sure you don’t wanna go a round with a guy, Coco? Bet I can make it worth your while.” He wiggled his hips when he said it and Coco snorted.

“Baby, even if I _was_ into boys, you couldn’t handle me.” Coco tossed her bangs from her eyes and pushed up her beret. “Though if I ever get drunk enough to try, at least I’ll know what I’m doing with you.” There was a dryness in her voice that had Sun chuckling, but he stumbled when he bumped into Neptune, who had frozen still into the sand. Scarlet was frozen a few steps to his right.

“What did you say?” Scarlet’s voice cracked when they spoke. “What are you imply—”

“Oh, shit,” said Fox. “Nah, it’s cool. Coco’s allowed to make that joke. I told her she could because we’re friends. And partners. And shit.” Fox turned toward the group and waved his arms in front of him. “She doesn’t mean anything by it. Fuck, I’ve made that joke more than she has.”

“You’re trans,” said Neptune. And Sun could almost hear the way those words must have echoed around in Fox’s head. “You’re _trans_.” His voice cracked high, similar to what it was when he woke up from nightmares.

“Yeah?” Fox cocked his head to one side. “Yeah, I am. Figured you’d have noticed. I don’t bind half the time and my tits are almost as big as Coco’s.”

Coco huffed. “So not fair. You don’t even _want_ them.”

“If it pisses you off that mine are as big as yours, I’m keeping them,” said Fox, grinning. “Dypshoria who?” He shrugged. “I’m fine with my body. It’s the world that wants me to conform.”

“Amen to that,” said Scarlet. They tapped Fox’s shoulder in the two-fingered, double tap that meant someone was asking Fox for a high-five. Fox lifted his hand and Scarlet slapped theirs against his. “Fuck the gender police.”

“Hell yeah!” said Fox. He laughed. “You all right, Neptune? I can _taste_ the anxiety coming off you. Tastes like grape.”

Sun looked at Neptune, who was still frozen.

“You’re… really open about that,” said Neptune, slowly.

Fox shrugged. “Yeah, so? I’m not ashamed of who I am. Besides,” he gestured to the world around them, “I’m from Vacuo. Why not be out and proud? No one here gives a shit.”

Velvet nodded. “I—” She stopped, visibly steeled herself, and continued. “—I’m trans, too. It’s not something I spread around, like Fox, but I’m becoming more proud of my identity by the day.” She smiled, shy and sweet, and twirled a strand of hair around one finger. “Fox was the first person on the team I told, and you’re the first ones I’ve told outside of my team.”

Neptune stared from Fox, to Velvet, to Scarlet, then back across all three. Tears welled in his eyes and he clapped a hand over his mouth. Sun darted forward, wrapping his arms around Neptune from behind and pressing his forehead into the space between Neptune’s shoulder blades.

“You’re okay,” whispered Sun, tail wrapping around Neptune’s waist. “You’re okay.”

“You’re right. I am too soft for this place,” mumbled Neptune from between fingers and tears. “Losing water already and we’re not even at the city.” They were close, though. So, so close. Close enough that this little party was going to start drawing attention in a minute if Sun didn’t get Neptune to calm down. That’d be a hell of a first impression to make to all his future classmates. Shit.

But he needed Neptune to be _okay_ , not just calm.

“It’s up to you,” said Scarlet, voice soft. “I promise.”

“What’s going on?” asked Coco.

“Oh,” said Fox, quietly. “Neptune…”

“I’m trans, too,” whispered Neptune from behind his fingers. “And I don’t _tell_ people because I’m so fucking scared of what they’ll think. I was raised in Mistral, but one of my moms is from Atlas and both of those kingdoms are just… _awful_ for shit. Gender, and faunus, and everything.” He lifted one hand to rub at his eyes. “It’s hard. It’s really hard.”

“It is,” agreed Velvet, softly. “I spend half my time in Atlas, with my father and his new partners. I know some of what you feel.” She crossed the sand between them and laid a hand atop Neptune’s as he lowered it from his face. “But we’ll never judge you. And we’ll help you stay stealth, if that’s what you need.”

“Agreed,” said Fox. “Can’t quite find you, because there’s so many auras around here, but I’d hug you if I could.” He was mostly facing the right direction, though he was looking more at Sun than Neptune. Probably because their auras bled together so much. Something Neptune’s moms had squealed over when they’d first noticed it.

“Thanks,” said Neptune. “Gods, Sun is right. I am too emotional for this place.”

“Good,” said Yatsu. “Stay that way.” He folded massive arms over an even more massive chest and levelled them all with his dark, yet gentle, gaze. “Someone around here needs to be that way. And I would be happy to protect your heart to keep you that way.”

“That almost sounds romantic, Yatsu,” teased Coco. “You flirting?”

Yatsu rolled his eyes. “ _Coco_.”

“That’s not a no,” said Coco, still grinning. “Seriously though, Neptune. You’re fine by us. We’re pretty damn accepting. And if you need anything, you just tell us.” She cocked her head, sunglasses sliding down, and her bloodshot eyes sparkled. “Plus, that makes half of us trans.” Her grin turned crooked and sly. “Guess that means we have to team up with you. We could have a trans team and a cis team, if we wanted to mix it up.”

Neptune let out a sharp, startled laugh. Sun peeled himself off his partner and slung an arm around his shoulders, lifting up onto his toes to do so properly.

“What would we even call ourselves?” asked Velvet, scratching her head.

“No idea,” said Scarlet, “but I’m in charge.”

Neptune rolled his eyes and Fox snorted, but neither protested.

“Right, so, Academy?” asked Sun, trying to not-so-gently change the subject.

“Please,” said Neptune, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m so done with today.”

“It’s like. Eight in the morning,” said Coco.

“ _So_ done,” repeated Neptune.

Sun stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Agreed. Let’s go.”

Together, the eight headed toward the gate, a little more open with one another and a little more prepared to take on whatever was going on in Vacuo. Still, Sun couldn’t help but wonder about Team RWBY, and the remains of JNPR, and the journey they were on. Would it stop whatever was going on? How much more did they know than Sun and his teammates?

And how could he help, from half a world away?

* * *

The castle at the end of the world, as Mercury had dubbed it one day when he and Emerald were bored, was, contrary to Emerald’s initial hopes, way more fucking terrifying without Salem than with her. At least when Salem was around, there was some comfort in knowing that none of the Grimm would attack them unless they fucked up irreparably. Now, with her gone, Emerald avoided the Grimm more than she ever had before, fearful that if she defended herself against one, the entire dark kingdom’s (also a Mercury name) army of Grimm would come after her, tearing her limb from limb for the rest of eternity.

Needless to say, Emerald hadn’t slept well in the days since Salem had left.

Currently, she sat in her bedroom, a sliver of a room carved from stone with a lumpy bed and a dreary lantern that glowed closer to red than orange or yellow. Every time they left this damned place, it took days to adjust to being in full light again.

The room had nothing personal. Just a pack that she kept for when it was time to go, a spare change of clothing, in case hers tore, and maintenance tools for her weapons, which she always wore, and Mercury’s legs, just in case they broke again and he lost his tools. Paranoia, maybe, but she wasn’t carrying him if they needed to run. Better to hand him the tools and fight until he could run on his own again.

“How long do you think it’ll take her to get to Atlas?” Mercury’s voice, behind her. Emerald sighed. She’d felt him coming. Had been able to for a while now, since she’d woken up on the way back to this creepy ass place after the fight in Haven. He’d helped heal her, and so had Hazel, and now she had this weird feeling where she could sense where they were, if they were close. As if they were connected.

It was fucking strange, and she was glad it only happened close up.

“I don’t know,” said Emerald. She sat in the window, staring out at the pits of disgusting black tar that became Grimm every hour of every day. “Hazel said it’d take a while, because she’s gathering Grimm as she goes, and she has to move slow, and in hiding.” Emerald hesitated. “And he said she needs a big Grimm, and those can take months to create. So, months, I guess.”

“Less than a year before the end of the world,” said Mercury. He sat down on the other side of the windowsill, lifting one leg to rest on the ledge. Their feet bumped together. Emerald couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken off her shoes. She slept in them, these days, curled on her side with her weapons under her pillow, waiting.

_When_ she slept.

Mercury pushed his leg closer to her, resting the outside of it against the inside of her thigh. She mimicked the gesture, pressing her covered toes against the spot where Mercury’s prosthetics met flesh, beneath his pants. The gentle pulse of his aura, prickly around the edges, pressed against her own.

“What do we do now?” asked Emerald, dragging her gaze from the outside to Mercury. His hair was longer than it’d been since she’d known him, hanging in his eyes. And his eyes seemed to catch what little light there was as he stared out at the endless wasteland, one arm draped across his risen leg.

Mercury shrugged. He looked back at Emerald and she saw nothing of the anger he’d held for so long. Just exhaustion. Just frustration. Just… acceptance of the bullshit that was their life.

“Whatever we like,” said Mercury. He let out a huff and blew his bangs from his eyes. “Face it, Em, there’s nothing left for us. We’re just extras. And when Salem blows up the whole fucking world, we’re not gonna be around for long.”

Emerald swallowed. She hadn’t to admit he was right, but he was. They were useless. Pointless. With Cinder gone, there was no reason for Salem to keep them around. When she came back, she’d get rid of them, one way or another, unless they could prove themselves as useful as her other followers.

But Emerald didn’t _want_ to be useful to Salem. She was tired of fighting for Salem. Tired of smelling like Grimm. Tired of waiting for a death she knew was inevitable but had no idea when it could strike.

She wanted change.

She wanted to _live._

And if Salem was going to kill them anyway, then maybe they could push it back. Maybe they could stave it off. Maybe—

“We could run.” The words hung in the air, spoken before Emerald could hold them back. She drew both legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. Mercury stared at her with wide eyes. Emerald stared back at him through her bangs.

Until she’d put it to words, she hadn’t known she’d meant it. But she’d thought of it for weeks, hadn’t she? Ever since they’d come back with Hazel, Emerald had wanted to run. Ever since she’d found out Cinder was alive but wasn’t coming back.

Ever since Mercury and Tyrian had pushed it into her head that Cinder didn’t care about them.

About _her._

She didn’t. She didn’t. She _didn’t._ No matter how much Emerald wanted her to, she didn’t, and she had to stop latching onto Cinder, because Cinder was only going to save herself.

“Em—” started Mercury.

“We could,” said Emerald, cutting him off. She swallowed hard and stared out at the wasteland. A Grimm looked up at them and for a moment, she feared it could hear them, but then it kept walking, toward the shoreline, toward the rest of Remnant. “Salem wouldn’t know we were gone. We could take off for Vacuo, get away from everything. Hide out in the desert until the world ends. We don’t _have_ to stay. We could—”

“Be alone,” finished Mercury, his voice soft. “No one to tell us what to do, who to kill. Just… steal what we need.”

“Yeah,” said Emerald. She drew herself out of her huddle and gave Mercury a little smile. “We’re all that’s left, Merc. Why not?” She shook her head and shrugged at the same time.

Mercury huffed and scooted closer to her, until their legs entangled and he could grab both her hands. “You willing to go back to stealing hormones?”

“Obviously,” said Emerald. “Can’t have you getting moody on me.” Her voice was teasing but heavy with meaning. She wanted him to say yes. To come with her. To run away once and for all.

She was _tired._ Tired of being scared. Tired of looking over her shoulder. Tired of waiting for a saviour that wouldn’t come.

And maybe this was the wrong way to do it. Maybe she was only delaying the inevitable. But this was _her_ choice. Her choice to run. Her choice to take Mercury with her. Her choice to be her own person, even if only for a little while.

And she couldn’t remember the last time she made her own choice.

“Yeah,” said Mercury, nodding. “Yeah, okay. When do we go?”

“You mean it?” asked Emerald, voice soft.

Mercury shrugged, his ears pink. “You’re the only person in this stupid, fucked up world I care about, Em. Where you go, I go. No matter what.” He flashed her a crooked smile. “Consider me your personal bodyguard.”

Emerald laughed and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. We just need to gather some shit. Then—”

“Then we’re free,” finished Mercury.

Emerald pulled away from him and smiled at him. “Yeah,” she said, soft and shocked and giddy all at once. “Then we’re free.”

* * *

Atlas, for all its splendor and beauty, was stagnant. Stagnant in layout, stagnant in security, and stagnant in creation. Since its rise from the bowels of Mantle to the low flight just above the smog and foulness of the poor, it hadn’t changed. Not in any way that mattered.

Arthur Watts stood in the shadows of one of Atlas’ most well-known structures – the Schnee manor. He dressed simply, despite that, a long, fur-lined coat atop his typical suit and tie. His gloves had not been changed, despite the cold that bit at his knuckles. No, his gloves were far, far too important to be removed. They were his weapon. They were his tool. They were his protection.

Not unlike the twisting, dangerous man that lurked a few steps further into the darkness.

“So, the Schnees,” said Tyrian, peering past Arthur’s shoulder to squint with golden eyes up at new construction meant to feel older. The original Schnee manor had been much smaller, built by Nicholas Schnee to be both humble and strong. Jacques had torn most of it down and built the old stones into the new, diluting and destroying what class the Schnees had gained in their short time as near royalty.

Arthur sighed. “Yes, Tyrian. The Schnees. Jacques, to be precise.”

Tyrian hummed, noncommittal, then leaned back and squinted at Arthur, instead of the manor. Perhaps the man needed glasses, though Arthur highly doubted Tyrian would agree to such things. He’d rather run around half blind by his own weaknesses than look as though he needed help. Even his prosthetic tail had been a journey to attach, and Arthur had the scars to prove it.

He had more scars from piecing Tyrian back together – handling his initial injury, studying and building the prosthetic, and attaching the damned piece of artistic engineering that Tyrian did not nearly appreciate enough – than he had from faking his own death. Yet here Tyrian stood, his partner in this mission, rather than dead, like so many of those who’d dared to mark Arthur in the past. Curious, though not something Arthur put much thought in. These were strange times, after all.

“ _Why_ are we talking to Jacques Schnee?” asked Tyrian. His tail flicked over his shoulder, curling against his jacket. It was a nice jacket. Thick, woolen, a woman’s cut, as well. He’d taken it from a victim, no doubt. Arthur hadn’t asked. As long as the man wasn’t complaining about the cold, Arthur wouldn’t dare question his good fortune.

Tyrian had complained every hour of every day, well into every night, until he’d stolen that jacket from whatever corpse he’d created. Frankly, the knowledge that someone else was dead by his hand was far easier to swallow than the continued bitching.

“ _We_ are not,” said Arthur. He pulled a Scroll from his pocket and set to work upon it. His focus was on the security systems in the Schnee manor. He needed to ensure they would not be seen or heard by anything other than Jacques, himself. _“I_ am going to speak with Jacques Schnee because he is one of the two candidates in the upcoming election that matters, and the only one that hates James enough to be manipulated into our mission.” There were cameras on their own circuit in the house. Arthur frowned. A secondary security system disconnected from the first? Jacques was getting paranoid in his old age.

No matter. It wouldn’t take a moment to disarm that system, as well.

Tyrian huffed. He folded his arms across his chest and tossed his braid over his shoulder. His tail shifted out of the way of his hair, before resuming its hovering near his shoulder.

“Why don’t we just kill Ironwood and be done with it? Surely _that_ would throw the kingdom into chaos,” said Tyrian. He pouted, truly _pouted_ , something that was better suited to one of the children that worked for Cinder than a sadistic serial killer approaching forty.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “Killing James _now_ would simply turn him into a martyr and unite the kingdom against the force that killed him. He may be largely hated in Mantle, but a great deal of Atlas still respects the man.” Arthur gave Tyrian a flat look. Leaned as he was, Tyrian’s gaze was level with Arthur’s, as opposed to below, from his typical slouching, or above, on the rare occasion when he stood straight.

Tyrian huffed. “Then, my dear Arthur, what is _your_ brilliant plan?”

Arthur continued to give Tyrian a flat look. Tyrian gave him a deep, mocking bow in return, tilting his head up at the deepest part of his bow to grin at Arthur with bared teeth and glinting eyes. It gave Arthur pause, for just a moment.

Damnable man that Tyrian was, always mucking about with his thoughts. As if he had a key to Arthur’s mind and free access to every process within him.

Damnable man.

“ _I_ am going to convince Jacques that it is in his best interests to work with me. I will manipulate the election to ensure his victory, turn everyone against James, and drive the man to madness and paranoia,” said Arthur, adjusting his lapels and his gloves.

Tyrian chuckled, rising back to his hunched height. “Give the old General enough rope to hang himself with.”

“Precisely,” said Arthur. He checked his Scroll. All security systems had been looped or disabled entirely. Perfect.

“Perfect!” said Tyrian, striding past Arthur. “Let’s get to work.”

Arthur blinked, cursed, and hurried after Tyrian. He should have expected that.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this myself, Tyrian,” said Arthur, stalking after the man.

Tyrian waved him off with both his hand and his tail, which he tucked beneath the coat and wrapped around his waist a moment later. “Nonsense, Arthur. We are a _team_. We should work together.” He stopped, abruptly, and Arthur nearly ran into his back. Tyrian whipped around to face Arthur, far too close for Arthur’s comfort, and smiled, crookedly and slyly, at him. “Besides, _your_ job is to topple Atlas. _My_ job is to protect you for our goddess.” Tyrian’s gaze flitted about Arthur, eyes glowing purple for a brief second. “That makes me your bodyguard in Atlas.” He gave a low chuckle, spun, and struck off toward the manor once more.

Arthur stood, frozen a moment as he tried to sort out Tyrian’s meanings. Protection? Bodyguard? Well… that would work. Clearing his throat, he straightened his tie and hurried after Tyrian, catching up only to haul the man back a step, forcing Tyrian to slow so he didn’t have to run up to the manor.

He had an image to maintain. One Tyrian was all too happy to destroy in his eagerness to start.

The manor loomed, and a few sharp raps on the door echoed all around them, beneath the lights that held back the dark of the evening.

“I wonder what staff member will answer the door,” mused Tyrian, stroking his chin. “Ooh, perhaps they’ll be so terrified they shout. That could be fun.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Tyrian’s arm. “Unless I give the say so, you are to avoid threats and to _absolutely_ avoid killing while here. If we are lucky, no one here will recognize either of us. If we aren’t, we will deal with it at that time.”

Tyrian huffed, folding his arms across his chest like a petulant child. “Honestly, doctor, you’re just no fun.”

“That’s not my job,” said Arthur, drily.

Tyrian grinned. “But it _is_ mine.”

Arthur growled. _“Tyrian—”_

The door opened.

And standing in the doorway was a boy that could have been Willow Schnee, in another lifetime. He stared at them with wide, blue eyes and a face that grew paler by the moment.

“Y-yes?” asked the boy.

“I’d like to speak with your father,” said Arthur.

The boy frowned, but the terror was clear in his eyes. “I’m afraid he’s busy—” Tyrian grabbed the door and pushed it open none-too-gently, sending the boy stumbling back as he clung to the knob. Tyrian swept into the space and glanced over his shoulder at Arthur, who strode in after him.

“I presume he’s in the study?” asked Arthur, glancing to the boy. The boy nodded, eyes massive against the ghostly expanse of his skin, and scurried ahead, head down, hands bunched near his chest. Like a mouse well aware that it was cornered.

Arthur glanced at Tyrian, who glanced back at him, grin wolfish. They followed the boy.

The manor hadn’t changed. Still too white, too clean, too much new money trying to look old. Statues of Grimm and old heroes. Paintings that showcased just how much this family hated each other. Though, Arthur noticed, most of the pictures that had the daughters were gone, bar one or two portraits. Only the boy still had his own paintings.

Interesting.

The boy knocked on the door of the study, nudging it open.

“F-father? There’s someone here to see you,” said the boy.

From the room came Jacques’ reply. “What did I tell you? I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Yes but… he let himself in,” whispered the boy. Arthur took that as his cue and swept past the boy, pulling open the door to step into the study. Jacques went pale, if that was possible for a man already so white that he hurt to look at, directly.

Tyrian scurried after Arthur, chuckling at the boy’s obvious discomfort.

“Whitley,” ah so that was the boy’s name, “close the door.” Whitley hesitated. “I said close the door! Leave!” Jacques threw his glass. It shattered against the door as Whitley closed it. Alcohol, glass shards, and a broken ice sphere intermingled on the carpet. Jacques visibly ground his teeth at the mess, nose curling up.

“My, that’s quite a mess,” said Tyrian. His tail slipped out of his hold in the jacket and Jacques blanched further. Arthur took a seat across from Jacques and crossed one leg over the other at the knee. He leaned back, hands folded together in his lap, and waited.

“Arthur,” said Jacques, voice breaking. He cleared his throat. Tyrian meandered around the office, touching everything in sight. Jacques’ gaze darted between Arthur and Tyrian. “You’re alive.”

“Indeed,” said Arthur.

“How?” asked Jacques.

Tyrian snorted. He picked up a picture frame, backwards on the shelf, and turned it over in his hands. From where he was sitting, Arthur could see it was of the younger daughter. Weiss, a name he only knew from listening to the two children at the castle whisper to one another. Tyrian set it back down, still backwards.

“Who are you?” asked Jacques, glaring. His gaze followed the slow, gentle sway of Tyrian’s tail. With the barb folded into the stinger, the gleaming metal wasn’t nearly as intimidating, but Arthur had been firm when he told Tyrian to keep the barb tucked away while in Atlas. They didn’t need to cause a ruckus. Bad enough that Tyrian had his tail out, though Arthur imagined keeping it wrapped around his waist was painful.

It wasn’t as though Jacques was in a position to tell anyone.

“Tyrian, my lowly friend,” said Tyrian, picking up another picture. He didn’t look at either man as he spoke. “Bodyguard, protector, and loving _partner_ to our dear Arthur.” The drawl to Tyrian’s voice drew out the meaning of partner, shifting it from business to something far more intimate. Arthur opened his mouth, prepared to correct Tyrian, but paused when he saw the waring emotions on Jacques’ face.

Disgust, horror, contempt, all working to hide beneath a veneer of disinterest and calm. Arthur closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes. Despite Atlas’ backwards attitudes toward sexuality and gender, he’d never been ashamed of his attraction – _sole_ attraction – toward men. Nor had he ever believed the nonsense regarding faunus being lesser than humans. In many ways, Arthur thought them superior.

Tyrian was proof of that. A perfect feat of genetics and biology that had created a predator like no other with a semblance to match.

Let Jacques think what he wanted. It may have been a lie, but it was one that Arthur held no shame toward. Besides that, perhaps Jacques’ disgust and horror would keep him in line. It wasn’t as though he could afford to disobey Arthur. And his discomfort made this plan all the sweeter.

Sometimes, rarely, Tyrian had good ideas. Arthur would have to remember to tell him that, later.

“Your numbers in the election aren’t looking good,” said Arthur, pulling Jacques’ attention back to him. “You’ll never win at this rate.”

Jacques adjusted his tie. “Yes, well, it’s not my fault that all those Mantle scum have no idea when a good thing comes knocking. Damnable brats that they are, not to mention the faun—” He stopped short, gaze darting to Tyrian, who smiled in that chilling, hungry way he did. “Yes, well.” Jacques cleared his throat.

“What if I could change that?” asked Arthur. “You and I have a common enemy in James, Jacques. If I help you win this election, it would another thorn in his side.”

Jacques bristled. “That man stole my children from me, continues to make a mockery of me at my own mines. Not to mention that ruffian that absolutely _hangs_ off him.”

“Ruffian?” echoed Tyrian and Arthur in near unison.

“Qrow Branwen,” said Jacques, his face a sneer.

Arthur’s eyebrows went up. _That_ was interesting. He drew out his Scroll and set to work, digging into the archives to see when Qrow had arrived and why he had the gall to cling to James as Jacques said. He’d assumed they were simply colleagues, co-workers due to their induction into Ozpin’s failed inner circle.

“Ah,” said Tyrian, too calm for Arthur’s liking. He draped himself over the back of Arthur’s chair, his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur tilted his head so that Tyrian had more room without pushing against his ear. Jacques, pointedly, didn’t look at them. Arthur paid him no mind. Charade or no charade, Tyrian worked better when given regular physical affection. The man _craved_ physical touch, contact, like a fish craved water, or a Grimm craved blood. Arthur was more than willing to let Tyrian clutch and cling to him, drape himself across his body, if it kept Tyrian in peak form. So long as Tyrian wasn’t interrupting his own work.

There had been a few nights in Mantle, planning their approach, where Arthur had been laying in bed, Tyrian draped across his entire body, while Arthur attempted to work with his Scrolls with use of only one of his arms.

The pay-off had been worth it, to see how cleanly and carefully Tyrian had wiped out James’ detractors, the following days.

Beauty and murder had never gone together before Arthur had met Tyrian and seen him at work. Like an unhinged animal with the intelligence of a century old Grimm. Exquisite to see him work.

“I have a score to settle with Qrow Branwen,” said Tyrian, still too calm. His tail wound itself around one of Arthur’s arms. Arthur lifted his hand from the Scroll to pat at the stinger, barb still tucked away. “Perhaps I’ll get my chance, while he’s here.”

“We won’t be revealing ourselves any time soon,” said Arthur. “I’m sure Jacques can understand that.”

Jacques swallowed and adjusted his clip-on tie again. In all his days, Arthur had never seen the man wear a real tie. Either he couldn’t tie one, or else he feared someone would strangle him with it. More than once, Arthur had been tempted.

“Of course,” said Jacques. “But ah… why do you want me to win the election? What are you planning?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” said Arthur, his attention on his Scroll. Military records. That would do. “Suffice to say, you winning the election and gaining the Council seat will do nicely.” There, Qrow Branwen. “I will help you win the election, Jacques. In exchange, you will give me access to your servers. Do we have a deal?”

Jacques narrowed his eyes. “You guarantee that I will win?”

Huntsman. Vale. Active. Rank—Arthur stopped. _That_ was interesting.

“You’re speaking to a dead man, Jacques. One that designed many of the security systems in Mantle and Atlas.” Arthur looked up, watching the warring emotions on Jacques’ face once more. Hunger, eagerness, fear. Good. All things Arthur needed. He held out his Scroll to Jacques. “Can you do anything with this?”

Jacques took the Scroll. Fingerprints. Perfect.

On the screen was Qrow Branwen’s in-depth and private hunter license. It detailed his age, his kingdom of origin, his general reliability, past team, and much more besides. But, most importantly, it showed his rank in the Atlesian military. _Lieutenant General._ A rank unique to the general of Atlas’ spouse.

Jacques broke into a wide, hungry grin. “With this? I can topple our iron giant.” He handed the Scroll back to Arthur and Arthur folded it away into his jacket. “You’ll have your access. You know, Arthur, I can’t thank you enough. I’ve wanted James gone for years, and you’ve just handed it to me.”

Arthur chuckled and stood, disentangling himself from Tyrian in the process. “We’re in agreement then. I’ll be in touch.” He moved to the door, then paused, Tyrian at his side, and looked over his shoulder. “And Jacques, this should go without saying, but do ensure that no one finds out that Tyrian and I were here. I’d hate to have to call off our deal due to loose lips.”

Jacques gave a sharp nod. “Of course. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still dead.”

Arthur smiled. “Good. Goodnight, Jacques.”

“Take care, old sport,” said Tyrian, grinning.

Together, the two left the manor and disappeared into the shadows, Tyrian’s tail wrapping itself around Arthur’s arm as they went.

A successful first step. Good. Now, for the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so Nuts and Volts is gonna be a thing now. My brain had a whole process of "Nuts and Volts is Dark Ironqrow, right? Well, that means they should be fake dating too! Yes. This won't end horribly in a fic where they're murder husbands." Also yes the detail of the jacket is lovingly inspired from mantisbelle's Nuts and Volts smut fic "My Best Fiend". Which is just a piece of art, frankly.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! If you feel up to it, I'd love to hear from you - big or small, I love all comments! Stay safe and take care. See you next time! <3


	13. Shadows Cast by the Spotlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to Atlas. Time to uh... start amping things up, I suppose? That seems to be what I do about now, and this holds true.
> 
> Also it occurred to me last night that Public Eye was 110k total. This is at 82k and we're still in the first act.
> 
> Oh boy.

There was something bittersweet about returning to Amity Coliseum. Something that weighed heavily at Ruby’s heart as she walked with her team across the stage toward where Penny, General Ironwood, Uncle Qrow, and Winter had set up.

The stands were empty, the seats dark and shadowed as they stared down at the young adults – teenagers? Kids? – as they walked across the stage. The lights were bright, harsher than they’d seemed back then, especially against the fading natural light that quickly disappeared from overhead.

Ruby sucked in a breath as they neared the space with the four. The marks were gone, but it felt like her soul remembered. There, to her left, the spot where Penny had fallen, in pieces, gone. There, the place where Pyrrha had almost died.

There, the place she’d taken up one of Penny’s swords. Crescent Rose seemed to hum against her lower back. Ruby must have been more tired than she thought, because she thought the sword, now a part of her blade, remembered, too.

Ruby let out a shuddering breath and a hand touched her shoulder. She looked up and Jaune looked down at her, his expression soft and his eyes full of concern.

“Hey,” he said, voice so low that it didn’t carry. A step ahead, one of Blake’s ears swivelled back. “You okay?”

Ruby swallowed and gave a shaky nod. “Yeah. It’s just…” She hesitated. “Hard.”

“I know,” said Jaune. He gave her a little smile. “We’re all here for each other.” She returned the smile as best she could and took the lead as the eight members of the team formed up in a line, shoulder to shoulder as they faced the three adults and Penny. Ruby had wondered how they’d fall in line, considering they were so used to standing in their old teams, but it seemed, almost instinctively, they’d all lined up in RRAYNBOW order. Ruby stood at one end, Weiss at the other. Weiss had pulled Oscar to stand at her right, and Ren settled at Ruby’s left with a small smile.

“Well,” said General Ironwood, fiddling with his tie. “Now that you’re all here, I think it’s time to tell you why I’ve brought you here.”

“That’d be nice,” chimed Nora, rocking on her heels. “This place doesn’t exactly have good memories.”

General Ironwood winced. “Of course,” he said. “And for that, I apologize. The last time we stood together in this place, terrible things occurred, and the worst was still yet to come.” He glanced to Penny, who brandished her Scroll with a brilliant smile. Ruby felt her knees wobble and leaned a little into Ren for support.

Should she tell Penny how she felt? Penny was a person, metal parts or no, so surely she’d understand what Ruby meant by ‘love’, but Penny also hadn’t experienced so much of the world. Would she say she loved Ruby back, but not mean the same thing? Would she misinterpret Ruby’s words, and think that Ruby meant something else?

Ruby didn’t know. Saving the world, stopping Salem, it all took so much energy, so much thought and focus, that Ruby couldn’t spare much more for her own feelings. It’d have to wait until after the war.

Presuming both of them were around for such things.

“But… I thought it was appropriate for us to reconvene here,” said General Ironwood, slowly. “Our war with Salem is only just beginning, but already, all of you have faced opponents that have wanted you dead, or worse.” As he spoke, General Ironwood began to pace the length of the stage in front of Team RRAYNBOW. He clasped his hands behind his back, his left gripping his right, and kept his chin high as he spoke. “You defended Beacon, Haven, Argus, and everyone you found in between. You have faced dangers that killed Hunters with decades of experience, and you did it all without ever asking for anything in return.” His words were true, and warm, but they also felt scripted, like he’d rehearsed it a hundred times. “Your behaviour, your skill, your want – _need_ – to help others; it is not the behaviour of students. It is the behaviour of fully licensed Hunters.” General Ironwood stopped and turned to Penny. “Penny, if you would begin the process.”

Penny nodded and skipped forward, and Ruby’s heart skipped a beat as she did.

“With this in mind,” said General Ironwood, stopping in the centre of all of them and turning to face the team, “I would like to formally welcome you all to the leagues of the Atlas Hunters. I am, officially, granting all of you hunting licenses, as of today.”

Ruby’s air rushed out of her chest all at once. She stared at General Ironwood, then yanked out her Scroll and watched as her student license changed to an official one, one like the fancy license that Uncle Qrow had.

“You… you can’t be serious,” said Jaune. “We’re kids.”

“We’re nineteen!” protested Nora, waving her arms in the air. “Well, most of us. Ruby’s seventeen and Oscar’s like, a baby.”

“—I’ll be fifteen in two months!”

“But the rest of us are adults,” said Nora. She put her hands on her hips. “I think it’s about time we got recognized for how awesome we are. I mean, _hello_ , we almost died _how_ many times?” She threw her arms in the air and huffed. “Finally, a little respect.”

Ren sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _Nora_.”

Nora shrugged with her hands. “What? Just sayin’.”

“What about Oscar?” asked Ruby, taking a step forward. Penny beamed at her; Ruby felt her face heat. She cleared her throat and turned to face General Ironwood, Penny in her peripherals as she finished with the licenses. “He’s too young for a license, and he doesn’t have a lot of training. I mean, _I’m_ too young for a license, but at least I went to school for it.” She rubbed the back of her head, glove catching in the new, short layers of her hair. “Are you allowed to give him a license?”

Was there anything General Ironwood _wasn’t_ allowed to do, actually?

General Ironwood shook his head. “Oscar’s getting a provisional license. He’ll be allowed to work alongside other licensed hunters, such as yourself, but he can’t operate alone, nor will he be required on any missions. It will always be the choice of both him and your team as a whole.” Ruby nodded at his words. Okay, that made sense. “However, there are some conditions to this license, one of which is Oscar attending classes at Atlas Academy.” General Ironwood looked at Oscar. “I won’t lose anymore children to this war.”

Oscar nodded. “I won’t let you down.”

General Ironwood smiled. “I know.” He cleared his throat. “Right, Oscar and I baked you all a cake, so if you’re as done with all this pomp as I am, you’re free to enjoy it and enjoy your night. I’ll… leave you to it.”

“You’re not staying?” asked Uncle Qrow, cocking his head.

General Ironwood shook his head. “I have work to do, and besides, you don’t need a stuffy old man like myself clogging up your good time.” Uncle Qrow frowned and folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowing. “Winter, if you would? We have some things to discuss.”

“Of course, sir,” said Winter, nodding sharply. She glanced at Weiss. “Congratulations, Weiss. You’ve earned this. Make me proud.”

Weiss nodded. “I will,” she said. “I promise.” Winter nodded and followed after General Ironwood, who strode off stage and into the depths of the coliseum.

“All right!” cheered Nora, punching a fist into the air. “As our first task as newly licensed Hunters, I vote we go devour a cake!” Nora grinned, feral, and bounced up and down. “Come on, come on. I wanna see how many pieces I can eat before I barf.”

“Nora,” said Ren, sighing as he followed after her toward the steps leading up to the small set-up in one of the stands, “please don’t do that. Please.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” shouted Nora, sprinting for the steps.

“Nora!” Ren sprinted after her. “Seriously?”

Ruby looked at Yang, Weiss, and Blake and smiled. “So, what do you think?” she asked. “It’s kind of cool, isn’t it? That we’re all together and finally have our licenses.”

“It feels strange,” said Blake, staring at her Scroll. “Surreal, I guess. When we first met, we were all trying to become huntresses and save the world. Now…”

“Getting the actual license feels kind of anti-climactic,” said Yang, rubbing at one of her arms with the other. “We’ve been doing all this official hunting stuff this whole time. So why does a word on a fancy license make any difference?”

Weiss sniffed and put a hand on her hip. “Well I, for one, am glad to be doing this legally. Now when people ask what we’re doing, we can show this to them, and they’ll leave us alone.” Weiss’ eyes sparkled and she clenched her other hand into a fist. “One step closer to showing just how much good we can do for the world without changing who we are.”

Jaune stepped up next to Weiss and smiled. “Well said. It’s good to know that even if we aren’t traditional hunters, there’s still room for us in this world.”

Yang folded her arms over her chest. “Well, there better be. After everything we’ve done for Remnant, they’d better let us into their elite club.” She huffed and tossed her ponytail. “Especially after Argus.” The last part was mostly a grumble.

Ruby winced. “Yeah, I guess it’ll be cool to have access to places without having to, you know, steal stuff. Or break stuff. Or go behind people’s backs.”

“Tell me about it,” muttered Oscar. He shuffled toward the cake, Ren, and Nora. Penny was floating near them. “We should get some cake before Nora eats it all.”

“Right,” said Yang. She, Jaune, Blake, and Ruby followed Oscar toward the cake, but Ruby stopped when she realized that Weiss wasn’t following. Ruby turned and looked at Weiss, who was staring at her Scroll with a distant look in her eyes.

“Are you okay, Weiss?” asked Ruby, frowning.

“You know, with this, I never have to go back to my father,” said Weiss, softly. Her words were so low that Ruby had to strain to hear them, and she stepped forward to listen more closely. “I’ve got the privilege to stay anywhere, be anyone, as long as I have this. Even when the world is safe, I’ll still have it.”

Ruby reached out toward her. “Weiss…”

Weiss collapsed her Scroll and stuffed it into one of the many pockets of her dress. “My mother, my brother, they don’t have that privilege. They’re trapped by a name and a man without an aura, without a semblance, just as surely as a Grimm could trap one of us.”

Ruby faltered. “I…” Ruby swallowed and rested her hand on Weiss’ shoulder. “We’re going to save them, Weiss. I promise. Atlas holds a lot of things for you, and we won’t stay here without tackling them all.” Ruby offered her a little smile. “We’ll find a way to save them.”

Weiss gave a soft huff, almost like a snort, that was accompanied by a bitter smile and a shake of her head. “You know, being legal hunters doesn’t change that I don’t think there’s a _legal_ way to save my family.”

Ruby used her free hand to give a thumb’s up. “Then we’ll just have to find an illegal way to help, I guess.” She sighed. “Even if it’s bad, we can figure it out. And sometimes you have to break the rules to do what’s right.”

Weiss smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and it was very small. “Thanks, Ruby. I appreciate that.”

“Come on, let’s go eat some cake,” said Ruby, nudging Weiss’ shoulder. Together, the two followed after everyone else and headed up the stairs to get some cake.

Uncle Qrow was sitting in the stands, drinking from a water bottle and being apart from everyone else. Ruby frowned, but she figured it was because he was an adult – a way adultier adult than the rest of them – and didn’t want to disturb them.

Penny waved when she saw Ruby come up the steps, then drew several of her swords and had them cut the cake into many, equal sized squares. Almost everyone was given a slice, then Nora stole three extra and stuffed most of one into her mouth in one go.

It was both very gross and very awesome.

Ruby couldn’t really bring herself to enjoy it, though. She was tired, and while she was happy to have everyone together, both with licenses and mostly okay, she couldn’t help the immense weight she felt. Was this how it felt, to have the weight of the world, the weight of its people, bound to your shoulders and burdened upon your soul?

She shuffled away from the group when no one was watching, avoiding Nora and Yang laughing together, Ren and Blake and Oscar softly chatting, and Penny and Weiss wrapped up in some discussion that was most likely about Atlas.

Uncle Qrow was in the stands, and Ruby sat down near him. He glanced at her, then shuffled over to her.

“How you feeling, kid?”

Ruby sighed. “I…” She tilted her head back and stared up at the sky. The stars were coming out now, amidst the handful of clouds and the ever-darkening sky. “I really don’t know. It’s a lot to take in.”

Uncle Qrow hummed. “Yeah, big day. Got your license, got your first mission, and got to watch how James reacted to his changing plans.” A hesitation, heavy with meaning. “How’re you feeling, about telling him everything?”

Ruby shuffled, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. She put her chin in her hands and sighed, staring down at her boots. The stands were cold beneath her, but the insulation and fire Dust kept her cozy. The snow had melted off her boots at some point, but she hadn’t noticed when.

“I guess… I don’t know if I really deserve this?” It came out as a question. She winced. “We’ve been on the road for over a year, but I don’t feel like I know much more than I did at Beacon.”

Uncle Qrow chuckled and patted her back. “Honestly?” She looked at him, eyebrows up. “That feeling never goes away. Some days I wake up and forget I’m not twenty-one and freshly graduated.” He shrugged. “I think most adults just… fake it for most of their lives. We’re all just pretending to be adults, hoping someone else knows what we’re doing better than we do.”

Ruby furrowed her brow. “Even General Ironwood?”

“ _Especially_ General Ironwood,” said Uncle Qrow, a conspiring tone in his voice. Ruby couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter at that. “Even the most powerful people in Remnant are faking it at least half the time. Trust me on this one.”

Ruby shook her head, smiling, and looked away from Uncle Qrow. She looked back at the stars. Constellations were appearing, now, and with them came memories. Memories of a woman with her eyes whispering the names and stories of the stars in her ear. The Seven Huntresses. Ursa Major. The Little Prince. So many more.

“What about Mom?” asked Ruby, the words falling from her lips before she’d even thought them. She looked at Uncle Qrow. He watched her with wide eyes and parted lips. “Do you think—” Ruby sighed and tugged at her cape. “Did she know what she was doing?”

_Do you think she’d do the same thing as me?_

_Do you think she’d be proud of me?_

“Summer was the only person I ever knew that made me think maybe adulthood was real,” said Uncle Qrow. He stared up at the stars, resting his hands on the stand behind him. There was a wistful smile on his face and a sadness in his eyes that was older than she was. “Sometimes I wonder just how much she knew, inside that little head of hers. Maybe she didn’t always know what she was doing, but she certainly seemed like it. There was never a time that any of us doubted her, right up until the end.”

Ruby nodded, slowly, uncertainly. “Her last mission…” She’d wanted to ask this for a while and now seemed like as good a time as any. “Was that another Oz secret? One you didn’t know about?”

Uncle Qrow shook his head. The wistfulness went out of him and he folded in on himself, arms draped over his knees and head bowed, hair in his face.

“There were a lot of those, back in the day. It was hard to keep track of what each of us knew. Even your father knew a lot he’s never talked about.” _Dad_ knew things? Ruby’s mouth fell open.

“Dad knew about Salem?” She couldn’t help herself.

“Yeah,” said Uncle Qrow, nodding. He still didn’t look at Ruby, instead staring with dull eyes at the floor beneath his feet.

“W-why doesn’t he fight? Why does he stay home? Why didn’t he tell us anything? Why—” Uncle Qrow rested a hand atop her head. Ruby fell still. She stared at Uncle Qrow and he tilted his head toward her, a sad smile on his face and in his eyes.

“He had to stop. If he didn’t, it was gonna kill him,” said Uncle Qrow. “Your father’s too soft for this war. And thank whatever’s out there for that. Tai deserves to rest after everything he’s been through. Gods know he did more for Oz than I did, back in the day.” A hesitation. “Things neither one of them has ever talked about.” Ruby swallowed, chest aching at the weight of those words.

Uncle Qrow sighed. He dropped his hand from Ruby’s head and closed his eyes. “That last mission… that was a Summer secret, kid. No one but her knew what was going on. When she never came back, Oz was just as in the dark as the rest of us, and Tai never forgave them for that.”

Uncle Qrow shook his head and opened his eyes. They gleamed with unshed tears as he turned his head upward to the stars. “Maybe Oz does know something. Who knows? But… no. I think that was something Summer did on her own.”

Ruby hugged herself. “Is she really… dead?” she whispered. “I mean, if no one really knows what happened—” She stopped herself and bit her lower lip.

Uncle Qrow sighed. “For her sake, kid, I hope she is. For everyone’s sake, fuck, I hope she is. It’s all that let’s me sleep at night, some days.”

“Why?”

Uncle Qrow looked at her, one raised eyebrow. “Because if she isn’t, someone – maybe Salem, maybe mortal, maybe someone we don’t know about – has had _fifteen years_ to do whatever the hell they want with her. Think you could sleep at night, believing that?”

Ruby’s stomach churned. She hugged herself tighter. “…No. I don’t think I could.”

Uncle Qrow bumped shoulders with her. “Hey, I know it’s tough, but you’ve got a lot of her in you. You’re both strong leaders, compassionate, and you both push on no matter the strain on yourself.” Ruby gave a tiny smile, even if her stomach still turned. “I loved that about her, and I love that about you.”

“I love you too, Uncle Qrow,” said Ruby, hugging him tightly. He startled, then relaxed into her hold, hugging her back and patting her back. “She was your family too, huh?”

“Yeah, like the sister I always wanted,” said Uncle Qrow, drily. And that was both funny and bitter, and Ruby wasn’t quite sure how to react to it, so she settled for hugging him tighter.

“Hey, Ruby!” called Yang. Ruby pulled away from Uncle Qrow, grateful for the distraction. “Come check this out!”

“Coming!” called Ruby. She stood and looked at Uncle Qrow, who shooed her onward.

“Go,” he said. “I’m fine on my own.”

She smiled and hurried down the steps, falling in line with Yang as they caught up with the rest of the group. Then, she gasped when she saw what they had gathered around.

The mission board. Except, instead of being a big digital _thing_ that had all these weird design choices and bad layouts, it was clean and crisp and had live updates.

“It’s an _app_ now?” asked Ruby, bouncing in place. “Oh, this is so cool!” She pumped both fists into the air. “Where do we start? What do we start with? How do we help Mantle?” She looked to Penny, who giggled.

“Well we have a lot of options,” started Penny, but she stopped and glanced at the tunnel leading out of the stands. Ruby looked, too, and watched as three of the five Ace-Ops appeared from the shadows. Marrow first, then Vine and Elm.

“Aww, aren’t you guys cute,” cooed Marrow, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he grinned at them. “Adorable little hunters all gathered around for missions.” He huffed and shook his head.

Jaune leaned toward Nora and Ren, off to Ruby’s side.

“I don’t think he gets to talk,” said Jaune, low enough that Ruby only barely heard him. Ren and Nora both snickered, hands over their mouths. Ruby bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing alongside them. Yeah, Marrow was _kind of_ adorable. Maybe that was why he was using it as an insult? Or something?

“Damn right we’re adorable,” said Yang, folding her arms over her chest. She jerked her chin at Marrow. “Means people underestimate us.” Yang cocked an eyebrow at Marrow. “Too bad it doesn’t work for you.”

Marrow pouted. “Jerks,” he muttered.

“They’re not wrong,” said Vine, patting Marrow’s shoulder. “If you look online, many citizens of Mantle find you nonthreatening and very cute.”

Elm slung an arm around Marrow’s shoulders and ruffled his hair. He squawked and waved his arms at her, but she only laughed.

“Yeah, Marrow! Lighten up. Let the kids be kids. They’re cute and they can use it.” Elm let go of Marrow, who stumbled, wobbling as he did. She grinned at the everyone else, hands on her hips. “So, hunters for an hour and already picking missions?” She punched her palm with one fist. “I _love_ the energy of the youth.”

“We want to help,” said Jaune. “And if that means taking on missions right away, we’re more than happy to do it.”

Marrow nodded. “Yeah, all right. I’ll show you how it works then.” He wandered over to the mission board and did a few swipes, bringing up screens. “You guys have access to every tier of mission except the top one. Those are missions specifically for top tier Specialists, like the Ace Ops and Winter.” Weiss visibly perked at the mention of Winter’s name. Ruby smiled at her. “Of course, if you decide to take the kid with you, you only get access to the first tier, because a provisional license is pretty basic.” He looked at Oscar. “Don’t need you dying on us.”

“Because I’ve got Oz in my head?” guessed Oscar, raising both eyebrows.

“Because you’re a kid,” said Elm.

“And a person,” said Marrow.

“And all lives are valuable,” said Vine, stepping forward. “Regardless of whether or not that person happens to be in possession of the soul of an ancient, immortal entity.” Vine steepled his fingers together. “Most of us never met Ozpin in person, Oscar. We know only of you. Take heart in that, little one.”

Oscar smiled. “Thank you,” he said, and Ruby made note to talk to him later. She didn’t need him going around thinking that the only reason anyone wanted him around was for Ozpin.

Frankly, Ruby liked Oscar more than Oz by a _lot._ Not because she disliked Ozpin, but because her feelings for Ozpin were… complicated to say the least, and she adored Oscar like the little brother she’d begged Dad for throughout most of her childhood.

“So, let’s take a look, we’ve got some low-level escort missions, some Grimm clean-outs…” Marrow grinned. “Hey, who likes kids?”

Most of the hands went up. Marrow chuckled.

“All right, Jaune,” he pointed to Jaune, who straightened and stepped forward, “congratulations on your first mission. You’re playing crossing guard for a bunch of pre-schoolers.”

Jaune slumped. “Seriously?” The disbelief in his voice had Ruby snickering just as much as the mission itself. “Is that even necessary?”

“Not really,” said Marrow, shrugging, “but the parents of Mantle like to know their kids are safe, and a hunter makes everyone happier. Might not get a lot of action, but you’ll have a good time and make everyone feel better.”

Jaune nodded. “Okay. Then I’m happy to do it.”

Marrow tapped the screen and then ducked. A split second later, Elm’s arm appeared above his head fully extended.

“Aww,” said Elm. “I missed.”

Marrow jumped back to his full height. “Ha! I win!” Elm slapped him on the back with a hearty laugh and Marrow shrieked and fell forward, landing on his hands and knees. “Damn it.”

Everyone laughed.

“All right!” said Elm, punching her fist into her palm, again. “Let’s look at some awesome, dangerous, freaky missions. Who’s with me?” Everyone cheered. Ruby bounced in place as she listened to everyone pick mission after mission, often pairing up.

She had to make a list of everything to do when they got back. But first, missions. Time to save Mantle!

* * *

The sounds of the rest of the team were muffled behind the closed door of the dorm room, and Weiss paid them little mind as she systematically pulled every pin from her hair. She unwound it slowly, methodically. Before long, her hair hung all around her, down passed her waist in a straight, white wave. She set the crown piece on the floor and stood up straight.

Weiss stared at herself in the floor length mirror of the dorm room. She took in her outfit and all its layers. Her hair and its length. It all smelled of Atlas. But, more than that, it smelled of her father.

And she loathed every part of it.

Piece by piece, she stripped from her huntress outfit. The boots, the gloves, the jacket. The earrings, the belts. All of the belts. One by one by one. The pouch that held her dust. The holder for Myrtlenaster, which was already discarded. The stockings and the cold weather shirt.

Two dresses left. The wrap-like one, fastened with two buttons, that was grey on one side and red on the other. She unhooked it and slipped it off, letting it pool on the floor. Just her white slip left.

Her white slip. Her white hair. Her white skin. And the whites of her eyes, staring at her, daring her.

Weiss stepped through the mess upon the floor and walked to Blake’s bed, where she picked up Gambol Shroud, discarded for the night. Discarded when everyone had rushed to the other dorm to play cards. Poker, maybe. Weiss didn’t know.

She walked back to the mirror.

Unfolding the blade of Gambol Shroud, Weiss took a moment to appreciate the gleam of the sword. She needed a sharp edge for this. Myrtlenaster wouldn’t work.

Weiss took a deep breath.

_“You are a disgrace to this family! Get out.” Her father striking Winter across the cheek. Uneven hair Winter had sneakily grown out for months puddled on the floor. “You are no longer the heir. You are a Schnee in name only.”_

Weiss lifted the weapon.

_“Beacon? Why in blazes would you pick Beacon?”_

_It wasn’t a question she should answer._

_“Don’t you dare touch those scissors. After what happened with—” She refused to acknowledge the name that wasn’t Winter’s. “—I won’t have another one of my children being a_ freak _. You will wear your hair long and you will wear a dress. And if you try to stop either, you will face the consequences_ girl. _”_

Weiss steeled herself to her purpose.

_The echo of a slap across her face. The final drop of the gavel as she was told she would never leave the house again, that she could no longer be the Schnee heiress._

A slash, lightning fast, brushing against the base of her neck. The barest whisper of wind and blade. For a brief, frozen second, nothing. Then, in the mirror, Weiss watched as her hair, so much of her hair, fell from her body and tumbled in puddles of white onto the floor.

What was once waist length now no longer brushed even her shoulders. It went only slightly passed her chin. Weiss stared, unbreathing. Seconds passed.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat. Weiss dropped Gambol Shroud and collapsed to her knees. She clapped both hands over her face as hysterical laughter burst from her, spilling out of her lips and tumbling to join the hair on the floor.

Tears welled and fell, her vision blurred as she sat down on the backs of her legs. She kept laughing, louder and louder. It tore out of her throat and scrapped her raw, stabbing into the floor and ceiling and walls all around them.

Everything was broken. Everything was torn. Everything was echoing against her head as every word her father had ever spoken against her, against Winter, against Mom, against Whitley, continued to rip up every inch of her mind, her heart, her _soul._

She was breaking. She was broken.

Her hair lay in spun pools of silver around her.

And her without a spindle to turn it into gold.

The distant sound of the door, opening. Closing. A gasp.

“Weiss!” Oh. That was Ruby. Ruby was here. Why? She should have been with the others. “What did you _do_?”

What an odd question to ask. It was clear what she’d done. She’d cut off all her hair. The ‘why’ was a little harder, but certainly she could guess that, if need be.

“Yang! Get Blake.” Ruby’s voice. “Hurry, please.”

“Holy shit, Weiss.” Yang’s voice. “Yeah, I’ll go. Fuck. This is—Yeah.”

Shuffling, door shutting. Weiss stared at her hands, at all the hair. At her own legs. Anything but Ruby.

“What’s going on?” asked Ruby. Hands on Weiss’ shoulders. Then one on her chin, lifting it up. Blue met silver and Ruby gave Weiss a small, trembling smile that didn’t reach the concern in her eyes. “What did you do, Weiss? Why? Your hair…” Ruby’s gaze darted around at all the hair.

Everything sounded far away. Everything looked far away. The world was behind a glass partition that she couldn’t break no matter what she did.

“Weiss!” Blake’s voice. “Ruby, here, bring her to the bed.” Arms around her, lifting her up. Weiss watched it all, barely aware of the touch of hands upon her shoulders and back. Of whispered words over her head. Of fingers combing through her hair. Short hair. Forbidden hair.

Her father was going to kill her when he found out.

Tears and laughter intermingled and she wasn’t aware of it until her face was soaked and her body was shaking and her breath caught in her chest and she could no longer breathe.

“Weiss.” Blake, gentle Blake. Lovely Blake. Powerful Blake. Blake and her dad who loved her for who she was. What Weiss wouldn’t give for that. “Shh, it’s okay. Come here.” A hand guided her head until she rested it on Blake’s shoulder, her face pressed into the crook of her neck. Weiss closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Lavender from the shower. Vanilla, too. Shampoo and soap intermingling. Weiss swallowed. Her mouth was dry, tacky. Her eyes sore and gritty. She grimaced. Felt the edges of her hair brush her chin.

Gods, what had she done?

“Easy, easy,” whispered Blake into her hair. She stroked Weiss’ back. “Easy.”

Weiss didn’t know what to do. To say. To think. Her hair was on the floor alongside her outfit, and Weiss didn’t want to go back to either. She’d designed her outfit to be the sort of soft feminine that she’d tried to be her whole life, but she was _tired_ of it. She was tired of everything. And standing across from her father today had shown her that she still looked like him. Still dressed like him.

Still tried to be what he’d tried to make her into.

She couldn’t do it anymore.

Weiss swallowed.

How much time had passed? It felt like Blake had been holding her forever. But how long had it really been?

“Weiss?” Ruby, behind her. “Can you talk? Can you tell us why you did this?”

“I need a new outfit,” mumbled Weiss. Silence, heavy with thought. “I…” She pulled her head from Blake’s neck and shivered at how cold the room seemed. “I can’t put that one back on. It’s…”

“I get it,” said Blake. And Weiss winced, because it wasn’t the same. “I… hate to ask this, but is this just about your family or…”

“I’m still a girl,” mumbled Weiss, staring down at her hands. Her knuckles were red and swollen. She must have been playing with them. Huh. When had she done that? “That hasn’t changed. I’m just tired of being what my father thinks a girl should be.”

Blake reached up and brushed the edges of Weiss’ hair with her fingertips. Weiss shivered at the gentle touch. Her face heated and her breath caught as Blake’s fingers found her chin and lifted her head until blue eyes met gold.

Oh.

Blake smiled at her. “We’ll get you a new uniform and tidy up your hair when you feel up to it. For now, my concern is making sure you’re okay. What do you need, Weiss?”

Weiss swallowed.

_Oh._

“My mom,” she croaked, “and my brother. I need to see them.”

“Then we’ll get you to them,” said Yang, from across the space. Weiss turned her head and saw Yang leaning against one of the desks. She, like Ruby, was still in her uniform, but she’d discarded the jacket and rolled the sleeves, leaving her biceps bare. Her fingers flexed against the toned skin and her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

Her eyes were red.

“We’re not leaving you,” said Yang.

Oh.

Yang pushed off the desk and crossed the space, kneeling in front of Weiss. She took both of Weiss’ hands and smiled up at her. In a blink, her eyes went from red to purple, from hard to soft, and Weiss found herself staring into them with parted lips.

“Whatever it takes, we’ll help you,” said Yang.

Weiss swallowed, throat dry.

_Oh._

Weiss nodded. “Thank you,” she said, voice croaking. “I… need to take a shower.” She reached up and touched the edges of her hair, already missing the touch of Yang’s fingers in her own. The intertwining of cool and warm, of metal and flesh. Of smooth and calloused. “Then… my hair.”

“Sounds good,” said Blake.

Weiss got to her feet and stumbled to the bathroom the two dorm rooms shared. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and sagged against it. Sliding to the floor, Weiss drew her knees up to her chin and buried her face in them.

_Oh._

* * *

Maybe if they were richer, or a little less unorthodox, they’d have a better base. As it stood, the ‘base’ for the Happy Huntresses was the mildew-y basement of a not-quite-condemned building pressed against the edge of the crater that bordered Mantle on two sides. It worked well enough for their purposes, though, and Robyn had spent many a night holed up in the damp, shadowed room, trying to sort out her next move.

Or trying to sort out what the hell Atlas was doing, like now.

“Amity Coliseum?” asked Robyn for a second time, trying to sort out what Fiona and Joanna were reporting. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “The Atlas military took Amity Coliseum to some old abandoned SDC mine?”

“Not just _any_ old SDC mine,” said Fiona, her ears drooping. “The one we went to.”

Robyn swore. She spun and slapped her hand against the cold, damp concrete blocks of the basement, grinding her teeth together. It had taken _weeks_ to scout out that place, map it, and get in without alerting the Grimm or the military. There was enough abandoned Dust in that mine to keep Mantle safe for months, if not years.

“Fuck,” hissed Robyn between her teeth. She cast a glance to the various tarp-covered crates that lined one wall of the basement. She’d been hoping to make another run last night, but May had been injured during a fight with a Grimm and without her, they couldn’t go. Her semblance was critical in avoiding detection, especially from that damned Geist the military hadn’t taken care of.

One that Robyn hadn’t been able to sort out either.

“How much do we have?” asked Robyn, turning back toward her girls. She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at Joanna.

“Enough for six, maybe eight weeks at our current output. But we’ve got at least four other households asking for help,” said Joanna. She shook her head. “So, maybe five weeks, tops?”

“Damn it.” Robyn pinched the bridge of her nose. The naked bulb that swung above them all was giving her a headache just as surely as this update. “All right, we can make it work.”

“If we cut back on who we’re giving the Dust to—” started May, but Robyn cut her off with a sharp look and sharper words.

“We don’t choose who deserves our help. We’re not Atlas.”

May nodded. “Right, sorry. Didn’t think of it that way.”

Robyn sighed. “It’s not your fault, May. I’m just… a little overtired and stressed from all this.” It wasn’t May’s fault she’d grown up in Atlas, where those sorts of decisions were commonplace and considered moral. And it’d take more than a few years to brush all of it away. “Right, okay.” Robyn regrouped her thoughts and her emotions, sorting everything out to focus on the present. “Any idea _why_ they moved the Amity Coliseum to that old mine?” She looked from Joanna to Fiona, who both shook their heads. “Perfect. Another mysterious military operation.”

First the embargo, then curfews in Mantle, now this.

“It didn’t look like just military,” said Fiona, folding her hands together near her collarbone. “There were a bunch of…” Her ears wiggled and she tilted her head. Despite everything, Robyn couldn’t help but appreciate how _adorable_ Fiona looked like that, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Joanna wiggled her eyebrows at Robyn and Robyn felt her ears heat.

Damn it, Joanna.

“I wouldn’t call them kids, but they definitely weren’t old enough to be graduates,” said Fiona. “They were dressed like hunters. Plus, there was an older guy – older than the Ace-Ops – with them, too.”

Robyn raised both eyebrows. “So, Ironwood is recruiting students to do his dirty work now?” She snorted. It wouldn’t surprise her. He was going to run out of loyal soldiers eventually if they kept dying in the tundra the way they were. Still, _children_? That was low, even for him.

But the old guy… _that_ was interesting. She’d have to dig into that.

“Right. Okay,” said Robyn. “Fiona, did you get pictures of the new ones?” Fiona nodded. “Good job. Give them to May. May, see if you can’t hunt any of them down in the databases. You know them better than we do.”

“On it,” said May with a sharp nod.

“Joanna, I want you to scout out the military site when you get a chance. I’ll go with you. We need to keep getting supplies to our people, but we need access to those supplies, too. We’ll split our time between supplying and trying to find a new access point.”

Fiona bounced on her heels. “What about the coliseum?”

Robyn sighed. As much as she hated to admit it… “We don’t have a good way in with that, right now. We’ll keep an eye on the site and try to ambush someone coming in, get our info that way. I want answers, but I won’t leave our people in the cold to get them.” She looked everyone. “Everyone good?”

They all nodded.

“Great. Let’s get some rest and we’ll start at dawn.” With that, the four women shuffled up the stairs and went their separate ways to their various apartments. Joanna bedded down with her younger siblings and grandmother, several streets in, May bunked with a bunch of other trans huntresses who had formed a sort of sisterhood amidst Atlas’ bigotry, and Fiona… well, Robyn didn’t know where Fiona went.

“You good, Fiona?” she asked when the two were the only ones left.

Fiona sighed. “Um…”

Robyn went on guard immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Fiona sighed, again. “I was evicted for being a ‘radical’ a few days ago and I don’t… have a shelter to sleep in tonight.” Her ears drooped. “Could I…” She looked up at Robyn with big, hopeful eyes and Robyn’s heart panged.

“Come home with me,” said Robyn. “I’ve got a couch you can sleep on.”

Fiona beamed. “Thank you, Robyn.”

“’Course,” said Robyn. She slung an arm around Fiona’s shoulders and kept her close as the two headed toward Robyn’s modest apartment. Robyn hoped Fiona couldn’t hear how her heart pounded against her ribs, or that if she did, she didn’t know why.

There wasn’t time for romance or feelings. This was a time for change. For justice.

Love would come later.

* * *

Yang jerked awake in the early hours of the morning, the fractured moon shining through the curtains of the dorm room. The taste of blood was heavy on her tongue, and her heart pounded fast and hard in her chest, threatening to collapse her lungs and suffocate her where she sat.

In her mind’s eye, the moment Adam had turned, mask glowing, and sliced her arm from her body repeated itself, over and over and over. Pain, blistering _pain_ , fear, anger, blood. Aura spilling out like tears. All of it folded together and left her wanting to scream.

Yang drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arm around them. Her right arm was charging on the desk across the room. Yang tilted her head to rest her cheek against her stump. It was cold, and that helped ground her in the present and made it easier to slow her breathing to something resembling normal.

Adam Taurus was dead, and Yang had killed him. Her and Blake, with the broken pieces of Gambol Shroud, had killed the bastard and left him to fall into the waters of Argus’ wilds, eaten by whatever came around. Adam Taurus was _dead_ , the mother _fucker_ , so why the hell was he still haunting her?

He was dead.

It was over.

Wasn’t it?

Yang closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe as deep and as slow as she could stomach.

Her tongue still tasted heavily of blood, but there was nothing in her mouth. She hadn’t bit through her tongue or her lip again, nor did she have any new wounds in her cheeks that her aura was trying to heal. It was the taste of memory. The taste when she first woke up in Patch. When she’d fallen in Beacon at Blake’s feet, defeated.

It was a taste that reminded her that she was not invincible, no matter what her semblance tried to tell her.

Her left hand trembled, fingers skittering across one another and bumping into the sides of her legs. She bit down on the inside of her cheek hard enough to hurt. Felt the tug of her aura wanting to quell the pain. Yang didn’t let it.

Adam was dead. She had a new arm. She had Blake back.

It was over.

She just needed her head to get with the program.

If she could kill the man that took her best friend, her partner, away from her – the man that had taken her arm and tried to take her life – then she could handle anyone else who dared hurt her team.

That was all this fear was. Fear that she couldn’t handle whatever came next.

But she could. She knew she could.

She just had to get stronger.

Yang laid back down and curled up on her side, staring at the dark wall.

Stronger. She just had to get stronger.

Then nothing would ever hurt her family again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved! I will get around to responding to all of them. I promise! Thank you for reading. <3


	14. Bruises for Your Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is LONG.
> 
> And it FINALLY gets to the rest of the premise. Or parts of it, at least. The summary. Yeah.
> 
> I'm so hype for V8, y'all. So hype. It's given me a lot of creative fuel to keep pushing with this. I cannot wait to see how hard we diverge from each other. It's gonna be hilarious.
> 
> :D
> 
> Enjoy

_Shadows. Ren. Glinting, red. A flash of a blade. Pain. Pain._

_PAIN._

_Red turning blue and a blade in hand. The taste of metal, of blood, mixing. He stumbled, whispered, fell._

_Dead._

Raven twitched awake, one hand on her face and the wind licking at her hair. She shivered, rubbing her arms as she dragged herself upright in her makeshift sleeping bag. It was dangerous to sleep in a tree, but safer, and warmer, than on the ground, these days.

Not like she had a choice.

But the dream… that was unsettling. Not new, at least not in theory, but unsettling.

The last time she’d dreamed about Yang had been…

_Blade from an umbrella, flash of white, brown, pink. Chainsaw in the distance._

Raven had saved her. But this time it felt… _different_. Felt as if it had already happened.

Stupid fucking semblance.

She prepared herself for the day, trying not to linger on anything too long, lest she bring the Grimm. She was alone, now, her tribe and her camp slaughtered and burnt while she’d been playing coward in a vault full of magic. The taste of her failure never left, leaving everything tasting of bitter ash whenever she forced herself to eat.

She had nothing, anymore. And if Cinder had survived – she had, the maiden powers alerted one another when one of their own passed on, she’d felt it when the old fall maiden had died. Felt it again during the fall of Beacon – then Salem was going to know Raven was a maiden, sooner or later.

Best to keep running.

But what about Yang? Was she in danger? Raven could cut a portal and check, but there was no point. Yang wouldn’t want to see her and the whole damn group knew she could change into a bird, by now. They’d spot her no matter what she did.

Yang was on her own, just like Raven was.

Except Yang had a fucking tribe’s worth of family and friends at her back, and Raven had gotten everyone who trusted her killed.

Typical.

* * *

Dawn. Or was it? His body said yes but his eyes said no; and Oscar stared up at the starry sky, tracking the moon as it dipped nearer to the horizon. The balconies around the dorms, not connected, but in the nooks of each hallway, were heated, but the cold lingered. Oscar wrapped himself in both a hoodie and a blanket, both of them adorned with the Atlas Academy logo. White and grey and dark blue, all of them folded together into blocky, futuristic logos that made his brain itch with forgotten memories that didn’t belong to him.

“Can’t sleep?” Oscar jumped at Qrow’s voice, turning to see Qrow shuffling out onto the balcony. He was dressed for the day, but had a Specialist coat atop his own uniform.

“Not usually,” said Oscar, without thinking. He winced as soon as the words passed his lips. That was probably stupid. Qrow didn’t care about him. He’d made that clear, back in the wilderness. “You?”

Qrow shrugged. “Huntsman my age?” He scoffed. “Nah, kid. We don’t sleep much unless we have to.” He slouched forward and draped himself against the railing. His gaze – pink? Red? Oscar’s not-memories blurred the line between the colours, overshadowing his eyes – tracked stars or constellations or something else that Oscar couldn’t see in the sky.

Maybe memories.

“Oh.” Oscar shuffled to his own side of the balcony and leaned against the railing, curling his shoulders and tucking his chin. He lifted his blanket-covered hands and blew into the palms, rubbing them together.

“I’m sorry,” said Qrow, words spoken up to the sky, rather than to Oscar. Were they even for him? “Back in Mistral, in Anima, I treated you like shit. Always like Ozpin’s body double, rather than your own person.” Qrow tilted his head toward Oscar.

His eyes were definitely pink.

“Then when we spoke to Jinn, I treated you even worse. I might have hit Oz, but it’s your body, and you dealt with the aftermath. I didn’t speak to you, didn’t ask you how you were…” Qrow sighed and bowed his head. His hair hung forward, blocking his face. Oscar stared, lips parted and breath held, eyes wide. His hands trembled beneath his blanket cocoon. “Fuck, kid. I’m sorry. You deserved better – _deserve_ better – and you’ve taken this better than anyone, even though you’ve got the best reason to be devastated.”

Oscar faltered, mouth opening and closing over and over. He blinked a few times. How did he—

“I mean not really. I never knew Ozpin, before all this started. You were the one who was lied to your whole life.” The words came out in pieces, stuttered and stumbling. “I’m still the same person I was before Jinn told us the truth. Nothing really _changed_ for me.” He slipped his hands from the blanket and gripped the railing until the cold dug into his bones and chattered his teeth.

“You know, you’re a lot like Ruby,” said Qrow, but the way he said it made Oscar frown. Qrow raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. And you act like nothing gets to you. In Argus, you had that whole thing of not knowing how long you’d be you, but you wanna help.” Qrow turned fully to face Oscar and jabbed a finger at him, but there was none of harshness from his drunken belligerence that Oscar had gotten used to over the last few months. Instead, one side of his mouth was quirked up, but his eyes were sad.

“Um,” started Oscar, blinking a few times.

Qrow sighed. “Do you really expect me to believe that some fourteen-year-old kid isn’t having a crisis over being the newest host of some immortal, depressed person who has no idea how to stop the end of the world?” Qrow raised both eyebrows.

Oscar winced.

“Not to mention, you got thrown into all this and I was the only adult around. I should have been better to you. I should have remembered that you’re a _kid_ first and Oz’s new host second. That you’re a fucking person.” Qrow pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just—Oz’s old body didn’t _have_ another person by the time we met them.”

“The merge,” said Oscar. He licked at his dry mouth but there was nothing to make it less dry. He needed a drink.

Qrow sighed. “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Nora’s got this theory, but she wants to hear us explain the Jinn shit again. Frankly, I dunno what it is, but she says it’s about the merge.”

Oscar hugged himself. The blanket slipped from his shoulders. Before he could grab at it, Qrow reached forward and snagged it with both hands, pulling it back up over Oscar’s shoulders and adjusting it against Oscar’s clothes.

“There. Don’t need you getting cold,” said Qrow. His voice was quiet, gentle, in a way that had Oscar staring up at him. Longing for his aunt, who said similar things in the exact same way.

“Qrow?”

Qrow pulled his hands from Oscar and wrinkled his brow.

Oscar drew the blanket close around him and tucked his arms against his chest. “Do you… do you even like me?” asked Oscar. He dropped his gaze to the ground. “Or do you just feel guilty about everything you’ve done to me?” He wanted to sound bitter, but mostly he was just _tired_. At least when Qrow hated him, he knew where they stood. This was weird, confusing, and it made Oscar shake as he longed to go _home_ , even if he knew that the word had no physical place in Remnant any longer.

Qrow stared at him, face flickering through a dozen emotions in quick succession. “I…” He took a shuddering breath and scrubbed his hand across his face. “ _Fuck_ kid, that’s a hell of a thing to think, you know that?”

Oscar winced. That really made Qrow sound like an asshole didn’t it? “I’m sorry I—”

“You think that little of yourself?” asked Qrow. Oscar stopped short, blinking. “Of _course_ I like you. Fuck, I adore what I _know_ of you. But I don’t know that much, and that’s on me. Going sober helped me realize how much of a _dick_ I’ve been to you, and how much of a hypocrite I’ve been with you.” Qrow gestured with his hands, sharp, shaky motions that had Oscar backing up a step. Then a second. “Every other kid that’s showed up, I’ve treated well. I’ve taken in. I’ve helped in any way I can – even the ones that can’t _stand_ me, like Blake. You?” Qrow shook his head and let out a deep sigh that drooped his shoulders. “You’re a good kid. And yeah, I feel like shit for what I did, but I’m not – fucking – I’m not doing this out of guilt. Or to make myself feel better. I’m doing this because _you_ deserve better. Because you tried to reach out to me and I turned you away in favour of Oz.” Qrow’s whole body slumped. “You wanna kick me away, tell me you don’t care, that you’re fine without me? Go for it, kid. You’ve earned whatever the hell you wanna say to me. But I’m here because you deserve better, my own feelings are secondary.”

Oscar stared. He couldn’t find words. He wanted to speak. He couldn’t figure it out. Qrow felt guilty, but that wasn’t why he was here. He cared. He thought Oscar deserved better. He wanted to know Oscar. As a _person._

But— _was_ Oscar worth knowing? Was he even going to be a person for long? When would the merge happen? Especially with the memories and how they kept coming at all hours of the day.

But Qrow didn’t care. Just like the others said they didn’t care. He’d thought they were all waiting for Oz to come back, then they’d toss him aside like he was nothing.

But Qrow was saying it wasn’t like that.

But—

Oscar stumbled forward. The blanket fell from his shoulders and pooled on the balcony concrete.

“Oscar—”

Oscar fell into Qrow and clung to him, pressing his face into Qrow’s chest and wrapping his arms tight around his body.

Qrow hugged him back, fingers digging into Oscar’s clothes and breaths huffing against his hair.

“Thanks. I think it’d be cool to get to know you, too,” said Oscar. “You know, without the drunkenness and self-hatred.”

Qrow snorted, body twitching as he did.

Oscar—

_You smile at the boy, not yet a man, who will one day be your greatest ally and conspirator. At the moment, he is a first year, two weeks past his initiation. Team STRQ. The leader, his partner._

_He scowls at you, gaze darting up and down. He’s used to adults hurting him. It’s easy to see, from the pinch of his shoulders to the dart of his eyes to the way he rolls his hands and ankles in two completely different, but complimentary, ways._

_“Nice to see you, Qrow,” you say, smiling as you lean on a cane you won’t need for four years. A cane you need because of the boy in front of you. He stares at you, hands clenched at his sides. In your office, he is small and out of place. Like a bird that flew in through the window and couldn’t find it again. “I must say, I’m surprised you could hack an elevator.”_

_“Wasn’t hard,” says Qrow, with a shrug. Pride, but not arrogance. Eagerness._

_You continue to smile, eyes crinkling. He’s not soft in the ways most first years are, but he’s soft, all the same._

_“Really? My, then perhaps I should upgrade my security.” You cross the room and lean against your desk, no longer between Qrow and his only escape. He watches you, turning as you walk. “Would you like some hot chocolate? I was going to have a cup, but I think there’s enough here for two.”_

_Qrow watches you, eyes narrowed, flickering. He doesn’t speak for a long minute, then he reaches out and pulls out the chair furthest from you and closest to the pot of cocoa. He sits, waiting._

_You pour his mug first, then your own._

_It’s the first of many off-hours meetings you’ll have._

—stumbled backward, hand on his head. Slipped on something he couldn’t see. Fell. Braced.

Qrow caught him, hand wrapped around his wrist before he hit the ground. He pulled Oscar upright and took his other arm, guiding him forward.

“You tripped on the blanket,” he said, and Oscar nodded. Blanket, right. There was a blanket. They were on a balcony in Atlas Academy, not in the office of Beacon. The taste of hot chocolate lingered on his tongue.

His appetite was gone.

“You okay, kid? What happened?” asked Qrow. He was still holding Oscar. Why was he so much taller? Wasn’t he taller than Qrow? But no. No he wasn’t. He wasn’t. Ozpin had been.

Why was it so hard to tell the difference?

“Fine, I—” But the world was blurry and awful and wet and Oscar could barely stand it. He leaned into Qrow because Qrow was solid and warm. Qrow was real. Qrow wouldn’t betray him.

_Are you sure about that? You’ve always betrayed him._

“Stop it!” Oscar grabbed the sides of his head. What was that voice? Who was talking to him? Was it himself? Ozpin? Someone else? Or just the weight of generations of memories of trauma and betrayal and heartache and secrets, bearing down on him like the world was ending.

“Easy, easy,” said Qrow. “Sit down with me.” Qrow guided them both to the blanket on the concrete. The cold seeped but it grounded. Beacon wasn’t cold. The old office wasn’t cold. Only Atlas, this balcony, was cold. “Take your time, kid. Take some deep breaths.”

Oscar stared at Qrow’s hands, still upon his arms. The cold concrete. The soft blanket. The tight but gentle grip of Qrow’s fingers. Scarred, wearing rings. Red knuckled and battle worn. Whispers in the back of Oscar’s head tugged at him. He knew – no, _they_ knew – where some of those scars were from. Had seen some of them form. Maybe were even the cause of them.

Oscar bit his tongue until he tasted blood. He wasn’t falling again. Not right now.

“Sometimes I see things,” Oscar bit out, before sucking in a sharp, cold breath. “Memories, I guess. Stuff Oz did before they were in me. I don’t know why. It didn’t happen before…” A hesitation. “Before they left.” Oscar rubbed at his eyes. He was so _tired._ Why wouldn’t he just sleep? Why did he had to deal with nightmares every night? Dreams of places he’d never been. Monsters he’d never fought. People he’d never loved. Salem. Always it came back to Salem. Death, destruction, desire. And Salem.

“Fucks you up a bit?” asked Qrow.

Oscar nodded, closing his eyes. He bowed his head and sucked in a few deep breaths. He opened them. The world solidified.

“Yeah. I’m… trying to get used to it,” said Oscar. He let out a shaky breath. “It’s kind of hard.”

“Can’t imagine,” said Qrow, quietly. “You uh, wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Fair is fair,” said Qrow, nodding. He released Oscar’s arms and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you wanna go back inside? Maybe find a pair of couches to crash on? If you don’t wanna go back to your room, that is.”

Oscar thought about the room. About the three sleeping people within. About Nora, who knew some of it but was mostly bouncing. About Ren, who kept pulling away from everyone but Oscar couldn’t figure out why. About Jaune, who was like the brother he’d always wanted, always dreamed of. About how much all three of them had been through in the last few weeks.

He nodded. “Yeah, let’s go find some couches.” The two got to their feet, Oscar wrapped the blanket around himself, and they went to find a place to sleep until morning.

Maybe Oscar didn’t know Qrow that well. But half of his soul did. And as much as Oscar wasn’t on speaking terms with that half, the trust and ease it gave him around Qrow was something he appreciated, especially with how uncertain and scary his life had become.

* * *

Sharp, shrill beeping dug itself into Ruby’s brain, piercing the fog of her sleepy date with Penny. They were watching fireworks in the sky, Ruby in Penny’s arms with her own arms around Penny’s neck. Penny whispered chemistry facts about fireworks that Ruby only barely understood, barely audible above the booming of the fireworks and the booming of Ruby’s heart.

Then the beeping tore the date apart and Ruby was falling, landing in her bed as she clawed herself to consciousness.

“What is that?” came Weiss’ voice. The dorm came into focus, grey-white ceiling and blue blankets. The scent of a candle Blake had burned before bed. Lavender.

“Turn it off,” groaned Yang. One of her pillows went flying toward the desks. Ruby squinted at the desks and saw all four of their Scrolls blinking and vibrating against the not-wood-probably-metal surface. “Turn it off!”

A flicker, a twitch. A glyph appeared under all four Scrolls and hucked them into the air. They landed on the beds, one after the other.

“Thanks, Weiss,” mumbled Blake from her bottom bunk.

“Uh-huh,” said Weiss.

Ruby yanked her Scroll open and groaned alongside her friends at the text. It was a group text from Clover, an ‘all call’ as it was called, that had gone out to all of RRAYNBOW, all of the Ace-Ops, plus Uncle Qrow.

_‘Good morning hunters! Today, we begin training Team RRAYNBOW. Ace-Ops and Qrow, please wear your uniforms. RRAYNBOW, please come unarmed and in your sweats/Atlas-issued athleticwear to Training Room Alpha by 7am. Eat a light breakfast. The cafeteria has plenty of healthy, low weight options. We don’t want to make a big mess of the training room. Remember: you clean up your own vomit! Take care, see you soon, and say a big good morning to your new lives! – Clover.’_

“I’m gonna kill him,” said Yang.

Blake sighed. “Haven’t we committed _enough_ murder for one lifetime?”

Ruby winced. She couldn’t tell if Blake and Yang were joking or not, and she felt even worse because she couldn’t tell. A few weeks ago, that wouldn’t have been a question. Now, she knew what they were capable of. But they wouldn’t murder Clover. Clover was fine. Clover wasn’t a literal demon.

Still, the joke made her twitch, and then twitch again when she realized what she’d first assumed.

“I still think we should kill him,” muttered Yang, flopping out of bed. She landed on her feet, wobbled, and shuffled over to the desk, where her arm had been charging in the night. Dragging feet, bowed head, and pronounced shadows under her eyes when she turned. Fingers twitching when she set her arm into its place.

Ruby frowned. “Yang, are you okay?”

“Fine,” said Yang. She shuffled back over to her bed and dropped down onto Blake’s, head bowed. “Just tired. Do my hair?” Words spoken to Blake. Blake nodded and hopped up, grabbing the brush and hair ties.

Weiss sighed. “Is anyone _really_ surprised that he’s a morning person?”

“Wasn’t he, like, up late at some party last night for General Ironwood?” asked Ruby, rubbing at her eyes. She was whining, but who cared. It was _5:45 in the morning._ “Shouldn’t he be, I dunno, tired or something?”

“Tiredness is for lesser men, apparently,” said Blake, tone dry.

Ruby shook herself, taking a few deep breaths, then hoped off the bed and gave a big stretch. “Okay, enough whining. We can do this. It’s early, and it sucks, but we’re getting training done today.” She put her hands on her hips. “Who’s with me?”

Blake shrugged, already seated and working with Yang’s hair. “I can shift my schedule to anything. This isn’t so bad. At least we got six hours.”

“I’m going to take a shower,” said Weiss. She grabbed a towel and shuffled out of the room, head bowed and eyes bleary. Once the door shut, Ruby sighed and tugged her fingers through her hair. It was super weird to see Weiss with such short hair. Even in her crown braid, Ruby had always been aware of how long Weiss’ hair was. There’d been volume to it. Weight to it. Now, it seemed so much _less_. And it made Weiss, already shorter and slighter than Ruby in every way, seem even smaller.

“Worried about her?” asked Blake, her focus not leaving Yang but her words directed at Ruby.

Ruby rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean… well, I dunno…” She sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I am. That was _super_ abrupt, last night, and what if she’s still that shaky today? I’m… not really sure how to handle ‘bad parent trauma’.”

Blake hummed and worked through the ragged edges of Yang’s hair. “You want my advice?”

“Please,” said Ruby. She leaned against the bunks and folded her arms. The rooms were warmer than she expected. A sort of cozy warmth that made her want to crawl back into bed and sleep for a few more hours. The fire Dust infrastructure in Atlas was _really_ cool. Or, well, not _cool_ but interesting.

Or maybe it was just Yang being a space heater again.

“She’s not doing nearly as well as she’s pretending,” said Blake. “Keep an eye on her. She’s still got a lot to work out and a lot of things weighing her down.” Blake brushed Yang’s hair back and up into a ponytail, fastening the tie. “Weiss has been falling since we first saw Atlas. Nothing about last night was abrupt, Ruby, just unexpected.” Blake hesitated, setting both her hands and the brush in her lap. “Keep an eye on her. We all should.”

Yang shifted around, one hand fingering her ponytail, the other clenched in her lap. “You speaking from experience? What with the _also_ cutting off most of your hair in one-night thing?”

“Ren cut my hair,” said Blake. “And we talked about it. I imagine… the reasonings are similar, though not the same, but the impulse very different. I was with someone, I had to articulate before I could change. Weiss…”

“Had a complete meltdown and laugh-cried into her own hair,” finished Yang.

Blake and Ruby both winced. Yang shrugged.

“What? It’s true. Look,” Yang leaned back on her hands and tilted her head to one side. Her ponytail fell over her shoulder, “I know a thing or two about mental breakdowns. I think we all do. Weiss is skirting the edge of one pretty hard, just like Blake said. But I don’t think this is _just_ about watching her. We have to do something.”

“You don’t think that’ll backfire?” asked Blake, raising both eyebrows.

Yang raised hers in turn. “Did it with you?”

The words hung in the air, silencing all three of them. The dance, Roman Torchwick, the Paladin. All of it so far away. But there’d been another break they hadn’t been able to stop. The question was which one Yang was talking about.

It could have been either, her words spoken in irony or in sincerity. Ruby wished she had the answer.

Blake sighed. “Right.” Still no answer to what it meant. “Let’s take a minute to observe, see where she is, and then we’ll make a plan. Maybe talk to the others. Jaune and Ren are both great at emotional stuff.”

“And if Nora fucks it up, we can always kick her ass,” chimed Yang.

Ruby frowned. “That’s not fair. Nora’s great at emotional stuff. She’s just not as open about it.”

Yang raised an eyebrow. “All she does is joke.”

“So do you,” said Blake, quietly.

Yang snorted. “Everyone reacts differently to trauma.”

Blake scowled. “So what, being orphaned at a young age and having only one person to rely on doesn’t count as trauma?”

“Nora helped me a lot on the road,” said Ruby. “And just because she doesn’t act like it doesn’t mean she can’t be serious.”

With a huff, Yang shoved herself to her feet. “Whatever, fine. I’m wrong. I’m gonna go get food.” She stalked out of the room and Ruby figured the only reason she didn’t slam the door was because they were automatic.

And now they were all fighting.

Ruby sighed. “I kinda thought we were doing better. But I really screwed up there. Yang and Nora have always had a jokey friendship. I—”

“That’s not your fault, Ruby. Yang’s just tense,” said Blake. Blake pushed herself to her feet and slipped an arm around Ruby’s shoulders. “She’ll calm down. Once she does, we’ll talk to her. We cornered her and she reacted defensively. We can figure out how to fix it.”

“I kinda thought you two were getting along better,” said Ruby, looking up at Blake.

Blake hummed. “We are. But you have to understand, Yang and I are very different people, and as much as we care about each other, we’re going to disagree sometimes. We also both react to trauma very differently. Us having different opinions on what to do about Weiss is part of that.”

Different reactions to trauma. Was that a nod to their shared traumas with Adam? Or different experiences they’d had through life? Well, Ruby had Blake alone. Now was as good a time as any to ask.

“Speaking of trauma,” started Ruby, words slow and hesitant. She tugged a strand of hair. “About Adam…” She hesitated as Blake tensed against her side. “Are you… both of you, but also _just_ you, okay? I know you’ve been kinda tense around Uncle Qrow and some of the Ace-Ops.” Ruby bit the inside of her cheek. “Which is totally okay! You’re allowed to be. I mean, men have kinda done some really awful, rotten stuff to you.”

Ruby had no idea what stuff. She’d never asked the extent of what Adam had done to Blake. Never thought about it beyond ‘stabbed’ and ‘cut off Yang’s arm’ and ‘obsessive creepy stalker man’. But there was probably more. Years of history that no one left alive but Blake knew about.

Things none of them may ever know, and as much as it pained Ruby, she had to be okay with that.

“I’m… better than I was in some ways, worse in others,” said Blake, words slow. She pulled away from Ruby and moved to the window, hands braced on the sill and gaze resolutely at the skyline. Dull, black, and the stars were starting to fade. “I have a feeling Adam’s going to haunt me forever, Ruby, whether he’s alive or dead. Killing him means he can never do more damage, but it doesn’t mean the damage will go away. And…”

Ruby waited. The seconds ticked by. The digital clock display above the desks changed minutes twice. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and worried her lip until she tasted blood.

She waited.

“I’ve taken a life, Ruby.” Blake’s words were so soft that Ruby had to strain to hear them. “As a member of the White Fang, no matter how badly things got, I _refused_ to stoop to that level. I refused to put that much blood on my hands. Now, I’ve seen the light go out of someone’s eyes. I’ve seen how easy it is to murder if you’re given the tools.” Blake hugged herself, hunching over and bowing her head. In her reflection, her eyes vanished.

Ruby stepped closer.

“When I looked into Adam’s eyes, I saw the moment he knew he was dead. The moment he realized he’d lost. I _never_ ,” her voice went hard, “want to see that in someone’s eyes again. I _never_ want to be the cause of that, again. I did what I had to do but I can’t fathom ever doing it again.” She shuddered, a shake that quickly spread to her whole body and had Ruby reaching out to hug her from behind. She pressed her face between Blake’s shoulder blades and closed her eyes. “It was _awful_ , Ruby. It was so awful. And if I think too hard, I can still taste his blood in the air.” A hiccupping sob slipped from her lips. “I can’t ever do that again.” Tears wet her voice and Ruby’s hands, wrapped around Blake’s front. They splattered against bare skin and Ruby held tighter.

“You’ll never have to,” said Ruby, her words whispered into synthetic fibres. An image – Uncle Qrow, so much taller to her then than he was now. Blood on his hands, in his hair. A muttered ‘s’not mine’ to Dad as he fell into Dad’s arms in their front yard. Ruby and Yang watching from the window.

He’d been gone before they’d woken up in the morning.

“I promise you, Blake, you’ll never have to again. Not as long as I breathe,” said Ruby.

Blake splayed her hands atop Ruby’s.

“Thank you.”

* * *

“Good morning hunters!” Clover’s voice was way too cheerful for a guy that had probably gotten three hours of sleep, _max_ , but Qrow let it slide. He wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Welcome to your first day—what did you do to your hair?”

The Ace-Ops were already in the training room by the time he slumped in, two steps behind the kids and one step in front of Oscar, who looked about as awake as Qrow felt. He was pretty sure the kid had class in two hours, which meant he needed to _sleep_ , but considering he wasn’t sleeping anyway, this was probably better than nothing.

Clover’s words were far too loud for this damn early in the morning, and Qrow paid them little mind until the last part. The question was obviously directed at Weiss, who Qrow had noticed the moment he’d seen her. Gone were the long locks that hung to her knees. Now, her hair was a little longer than Blake’s, and if you asked Qrow, it suited her better.

She seemed lighter, even in her exhaustion.

“I needed a change,” said Weiss, fingering the edges. “I like it.”

Clover beamed. “So do I. Just a bit of a surprise. Sorry.” He looked over the rest of them. “As I was saying, welcome to your first day of being real hunters in Atlas!”

“Why is he like this?” muttered Yang. “Did he hit his head as a child?” A pause. “Like, hard?”

Qrow snorted.

“Yang,” said Ruby.

Clover chuckled. “Ah, it’s fine, kid. No, I did not. I’m just like this. Years of hard work and dedication makes it easy to put on a smile and a serious face whenever one or the other is necessary.” He put his hands on his hips. “So, welcome to the training rooms.”

Qrow glanced around at it. It was a large, cubic room made of black tiles with faintly glowing blue lines are the outlines of each one. There were various pillars from the floor rising up to different heights, all of them made of the same black tiles and glowing blue lines. Behind him, and far above, there was an observation deck behind glass. He figured that if James showed up, it’d probably be there, to check on them. Winter was up there, currently, tapping away at something that Qrow couldn’t see.

“It’s kinda boring,” said Nora.

Clover chuckled. “To the untrained eye. But to the careful observer…” He reached over to one of the pillars and tapped a tile with his fingertips. The tile glowed and the pillar slid higher into the air, erupting from the ground in a smooth, silent motion. “It’s a bit of a technological playground.”

“…Can we do that?” asked Jaune.

“Of course! Once we show you how. Today is less about the room itself, though, and more about all of you. I’m sure you’re all curious why I asked you to come unarmed.” He put his hands on his hips.

Nora huffed and folded her arms. “I wanna know why we couldn’t eat a _real_ breakfast. I’m gonna be starving in an hour!” She waved her arms above her head. Ren was half asleep against Jaune and said nothing. His hair was down, as opposed to his usual uniform, and it billowed out around them both like a privacy curtain.

Jaune had his arms folded over his chest, but instead of drawing attention away from him, which Qrow assumed was what the kid wanted, it only drew Qrow’s eyes to it, if only momentarily.

The kid was about as flat chested as Ruby was. Qrow made note, not to make trouble, but to give Jaune little encouragements. His struggles with masculinity and expression suddenly made a lot more sense. And it took metaphorical balls to come down into a room full of people when you only knew half of them and have a physical feature that was drawing attention you might not want.

There had to be a good way to tell the kid he was brave, and doing fine, without making him feel awkward. Maybe he’d ask Ruby, later. She was better with gender stuff than he was. He figured it was the generational gap.

“Today, we’re going to be focusing on hand-to-hand combat,” said Clover.

Ruby groaned and slumped forward. “Oh Gods, not _again._ Why me?” Her words were high-pitched but spoken quietly. Qrow bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at Clover’s facial expression.

“You didn’t think you were done after Mistral, did you?” asked Qrow. He folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow at her. Between two shifts of sleep (two to three hours a piece), two cups of coffee drunk as fast as humanly possible, and some painkillers James had handed him during said coffee chugging, Qrow felt pretty decent, all things considered. He was still a little wobbly, and his vision crossed at times, but things were getting better. And talking to Oscar had helped a lot, too.

Just a matter of letting recovery go without pushing himself too far – his back was twinging even with the painkillers – and getting back up to full strength. Bless James and his miracles. The man was a godsend that Qrow didn’t deserve.

Or maybe an apology for his semblance.

Or maybe the only luck Qrow had ever had. It balanced out, though, what with the ‘in love with your best friend you can’t have’ thing.

“I’m doing better!” protested Ruby, flailing her arms. “I can throw a good punch now!”

“Oh Gods, this is gonna be pathetic, isn’t it?” muttered Harriet, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fifty lien says the kid doesn’t last five seconds with me.”

“Taken,” said Elm. “I think she’s stronger than she looks. You might be able to knock her down, but she’ll get back up.”

“Bet’s on,” said Harriet, folding her arms and grinning. Qrow rolled his eyes. Children, the lot of them.

Yang huffed and folded her own arms, looking at Harriet, then the rest of the Ace-Ops, with no small amount of disdain. She lifted one arm, like she was back in class.

“Yeah, can I be excused?” asked Yang with a scoff. “Considering _my_ fighting style is based entirely on hand-to-hand, I’m pretty much an expert.” She eyed Clover with a flat look. “No offense to your team, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can teach me jack shit.”

“ _Yang_ ,” whispered Ruby. “That’s rude.”

Yang held Clover’s gaze, her arms folded, her chin up, one hip cocked, and her shoulders back. The picture of half-cocked ease. Qrow knew it well. He used that pose pretty often, himself.

“Prove it,” said Clover. Qrow blinked. _What?_ Clover gave a crooked, sly grin, eyes narrowed. “You talk hot shit, prove it. You beat one of us in hand-to-hand, you’re excused from all hand-to-hand lessons from now on. That means you get to sleep in for the next, oh, two weeks.”

“Seriously?” said Nora. “Come on!”

“But,” said Clover, and his voice got a hard edge to it, “if you lose, which you will, not only are you going to be in class with the rest of your team, you’ll get to play practice dummy for demonstrations.” Clover’s mouth twitched. “And we don’t pull our punches for demonstrations.”

Yang narrowed her eyes, the edges of her hair igniting and licking flames up her ponytail. She blinked, eyes shifting red and burning with them.

“Oh, you are _so_ on,” she said, puffing out her chest. “Bring it, string bean.”

“Nah, not me,” said Clover, stepping back. He cocked his head back over his shoulder a bit, still watching Yang. “Marrow?” The man in question perked. “Show her how it’s done.”

Marrow pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning on and swayed forward, the shift in his stance evident even before he moved.

Yang snorted. “Seriously? Marrow? What, are you gonna make me fight _Vine_ next?”

Clover hummed, smiling. “I know what I’m doing. Besides, Vine is an excellent fighter. He’s—”

“She,” said Vine, without looking up from, well, _her_ Scroll. Qrow blinked. Genderfluid? He’d hung around people like that before. Easy enough.

“Noted,” said Clover. “She’s better with her Semblance, of course, but even at zero aura she’s an impressive fighter.”

“She?” echoed Blake.

“Vine’s genderqueer!” said Nora, sounding perky. “She told us yesterday!” Nora bounced in place. “That’s when I told her and Elm I was trans.”

Marrow, Harriet, and Clover all blinked. Qrow joined them. Nora was trans? That… well, a lot of her jokes suddenly made a _lot_ more sense. Kids got more diverse by the day.

“I told them I was trans, too,” said Jaune, ears burning as he raised one hand to his shoulder. “You know, if that matters.”

Oscar blurted, “Of _course_ it matters. That’s _so cool._ I didn’t know you guys were trans.” His eyes practically sparkled as he stared at the two, a wide grin on his face. Qrow blinked. _Huh._ Now that was interesting.

Harriet shook her head with a chuckle. “Man, they really _do_ get queerer by the year, don’t they?” Her words were directed at Clover.

“I like it,” said Clover, smiling. His gaze was on Nora and Jaune. “It takes bravery to be who you are, and to be so open about it with others. Honesty is living your life as who you know yourself to be. But there’s something to be said about the courage and strength it takes to tell others exactly what that entails beyond simply ‘passing’.” He winced. “That’s the right word, right?” Nora and Jaune nodded. “Well, excellent.” He clapped his hands together. “You’re both wonderful, and valid, and thank you for telling us all.”

“Agreed,” said Elm. “I know you already told us, but it’s still damn awesome.” Vine nodded, a smile on her face. Qrow kept repeating Vine’s pronouns in his head so he wouldn’t fuck them up. How often did they change? He’d probably put a reminder in his Scroll or something, just to be safe.

“Now, Yang,” said Clover. “Ready?”

Yang cracked her neck, her wrists, and her spine. “Let’s do this.” She looked at Marrow. “Try not to cry when I beat you, ‘kay?”

Marrow rolled his eyes. “We’ll see,” he said. He unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off, tossing it to Clover, who caught it easily. Qrow’s eyebrows went up. Marrow was… significantly buffer than he thought, without the jacket to obscure his toned arms and shoulders. Nowhere near Elm, but still deceptively muscular from how he normally looked.

Marrow rolled up the sleeves of his button-down to just below his elbow, revealing inky black and gold tattoos that had Qrow’s jaw falling open and whispers rising up around the room. Blake rushed forward, grabbing at one of Marrow’s arms and holding it out.

“You have Menagerie tattoos,” she said, voice coming out as a breath and a shout all at once. “I’ve never met anyone outside Menagerie with them.” Her head snapped up and her gaze locked with his. “Are you from Menagerie? Would I have known you?”

Then, she flushed bright red and jerked back from him, ducking her head as her ears swivelled back and flattened to her hair.

“Sorry.”

Marrow smiled. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I uh, kinda wondered what you’d think.” He tugged at his hair. “Yeah, I was born in Menagerie, but my parents and I left when I was… about four, I think.”

Blake narrowed her eyes. “So I would have been…”

“Your mom was pregnant with you,” said Marrow. “I remember that.” He was smiling, a little wistfully, as he nodded. “Yeah, my parents were part of the White Fang when your dad ran it. He asked us if we’d help out with faunus rights in Mantle, so we packed up and headed out. Your mom used to show up sometimes and kick ass for us. Everything always went better when we had our own personal goddess of war at our sides.”

A little smile broke onto Blake’s face. “I’ve never seen my mom fight, properly. Just with guns or tea trays.”

“Tea trays?” asked Marrow, an amused pitch to his voice.

Blake shrugged with one shoulder. “Long story.” Then, “When did you go back for them?”

“I started when I was still in school,” said Marrow. “Holiday between first and second year. I’ve been going back ever since. Got them finished just before it all went to hell.” Then, “Your parents are pretty amazing, you know.”

“I do,” said Blake, nodding. “My mom has them, too.” She rubbed one arm with the opposite hand. “All down her back and on her hips. I used to trace them when we went swimming, you know, when I was a kid.” Marrow’s tail wagged and Blake’s ears came back up. “I never got a chance to start mine. I didn’t think I deserved them.”

“I can’t think of anyone who deserves them more,” said Marrow.

Blake’s eyes drifted to the floor. “Thank you.”

“Question,” said Oscar, raising his hand. “What are Menagerie tattoos?”

“They’re historical symbols,” said Blake, turning to face the rest of them. “It’s a language we devised to escape from…” A hesitation. “Well, humans.” She shrugged. “We were captured, enslaved. So we created a language and etched it onto our bodies, to tell our stories, our history, our plans. It’s how we kept them from taking everything from us. And how we escaped. It’s traditional for the oldest member of each family to have them tattooed on their body, as a symbol of the past and where we come from, but also…” Her ears swivelled. “Just in case it ever happens again.”

Silence, thick and heavy, descended upon the room.

Marrow cleared his throat. “As much as I love telling our history – and I mean that,” that part was for Blake, by his glance to her, “I think it’s time I showed you kids how a Specialist fights.”

“Oh, we know how a Specialist fights,” said Ruby. “We saw my uncle kick Winter’s _butt_ back in Beacon.”

Weiss huffed. “It was a _draw_.” She folded her arms.

“I was drunk off my ass and mocking your sister’s fighting style, which I never use, instead of fighting with my own,” said Qrow, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Weiss glared at him. Qrow shrunk back, pretending to hide behind Oscar, who sighed and stepped aside.

“No offense, but I just got everyone to like me again. I’m not defending you against their wrath if it means losing that,” said Oscar.

“You won’t,” said most of the kids at once.

Yang turned her attention back to Marrow. “You ready?”

Marrow nodded and took up a ready stance. Yang took up her own.

“First one pinned who can’t get back up,” said Clover. “No Semblances. If you hit zero aura, you automatically lose. If you lose your Semblance, you’re disqualified.” Clover eyed them both. “Ready?” Nods. “Begin.”

It wasn’t going to last long. Qrow could have told anyone that if they asked. But he didn’t say, because he wasn’t asked, so instead he watched the few seconds of the fight that were even before the tide turned against Yang.

Yang was hard, fast, with sharp gestures that flowed from one to another without pause. She was a flurry of controlled motion, without the anger and snarling that had accompanied her fighting style almost as long as she’d been training.

But she was still a kid.

And Marrow was one of the best.

Yang got in two hits – one to each shoulder, sending Marrow stumbling back. But that was it. Marrow swept low, took out her legs, flipped over her, caught her in the back, and didn’t let up. Strike against the back, a hip, against the side of her head. She swung, he caught. Flipped her over his shoulder and drove her into the ground.

Aura ticked down on the screens above.

But Yang botched it. She got out from under Marrow, turned, and launched at Marrow with fiery hair and glowing red eyes.

_“Stay.”_ Marrow’s voice and snap echoed from the room. Yang froze. Marrow stepped to the side and sighed. “Told her no semblances.” He dropped his arm, Yang stumbled and hit the ground with her face. Her aura hit red. “That’s match.”

Yang growled and launched herself to her feet. “You used your semblance!” She stopped one foot.

“So did you,” replied Marrow, folding his arms. “I reacted. You acted. Still need to learn.”

Yang scowled. “And you don’t?”

“I never said that,” said Marrow. “I’m fully aware I’m not the best fighter in the room, Yang. The difference is I don’t pretend I’m too good for training.”

Clover sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “All right, all right. That’s enough. Marrow, you won, go back to your spot.” Marrow nodded and slipped into line next to Harriet. “Yang?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Yang, stalking back over to her team. She folded her arms and scowled at the ground. “So when do I get to play punching bag, oh mighty one?”

Clover gave a second sigh and looked to Qrow, who shrugged. Hey, he’d poked the bear. He could live with it.

“Qrow, do you want to help me give a demonstration as to the hand-to-hand capabilities of fully realized huntsmen?” asked Clover, holding out one hand to Qrow.

Qrow snorted and shook his head, a wry smile on his face. He pushed off the block and swayed toward Clover, stopping outside of his reach.

“What’s so funny?” asked Clover.

“Kid, there’s fifteen years between us, and all of that is experience,” said Qrow. He swept his bangs back out of his face with one hand and grinned, crooked, sly, and all teeth. “If you think this is gonna be any fairer than your boy fighting my niece, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Hey,” protested Marrow. “I’m not his boy!”

Clover’s ears pinked. He cleared his throat. “You gonna fight me or what?”

Qrow chuckled. “Sure, pretty boy, let’s fight.” He grinned, fighting back another chuckle at the way Clover’s face burned at the words. Qrow fell into a ready stance and waited for Clover to begin.

“Zero or pin?” asked Qrow, raising an eyebrow.

“Pin,” said Clover. “We don’t need you down for the count again.”

Qrow snorted. “Sure. _Me_. Ruby? Call it.”

Ruby grinned. “Ready?” Two nods. “Begin!”

Qrow moved. Strike left, right, sweep the legs. Clover leapt back and Qrow was there. Caught Clover in the jaw, in the gut, kneed him hard as he crumpled. Rammed his heel into the back of Clover’s knee, slammed him back, and flattened him to the ground.

Clover jerked, fighting, but he didn’t have a chance. Qrow barred his throat and leaned hard on that arm, listening to Clover gasp.

“Eight seconds,” murmured Qrow, a few inches from Clover’s face. “And that’s unarmed, pretty boy. Imagine what I could do with a knife.”

Clover tapped out, his gurgling breaths echoing in Qrow’s ears. Qrow leaned back, still straddling Clover but no longer leaned over him. Qrow stretched his arms above his head and grinned. Clover coughed and gasped, rubbing at his red throat with one hand.

It’d bruise, if he didn’t use his aura to heal it.

“What do you think, Ruby? How’d I do?” asked Qrow.

Ruby’s grin widened. “You still can’t beat Dad.”

Qrow snorted. “Not if my life depended on it,” he agreed. He got to his feet and held out a hand to Clover, who took it. Qrow pulled him to his feet and raised an eyebrow. “So, wanna learn how to do that?”

“Oh, hell yes,” said Clover.

Qrow laughed and clapped his hands together. “All right. Let’s train, kids.”

* * *

The message came just after lunch, lighting up every Scroll in the room as the Ace-Ops, Qrow, and Team RRAYNBOW, minus Oscar, went through their post-lunch stretches before moving on to weapons’ training.

Qrow dug out his Scroll to read the text, froze, and dropped the Scroll before the words had fully registered.

“Uncle Qrow?” Ruby hurried toward him. Qrow shook his head and crouched down, picking up his Scroll and trying to ignore the slight tremble in his fingertips. The text was still displayed on the glowing screen and as murmurs and curses picked up in the room, he knew everyone else had read it.

The text was from James and included a screenshot beneath a short message that read ‘my office, all of you, right now.’

The screenshot in question was from the Atlas News Network and had a picture of Qrow’s huntsmen license with his rank, _Lieutenant General_ , circled in bright red. Beneath, the frozen headline read ‘General Ironwood’s Secret Love Story: Shame or Suspect?’

“That’s… not good,” said Yang. “Is it?” Her words were to Qrow, and he shook his head before stuffing his Scroll back in his pocket.

“No,” he agreed. “It’s really not.” He nodded to the door. “Look like it’s time to cut this short for the day.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled toward the door, his back to everyone. “Come on, we’ve got shit to talk about. Looks like things are changing.”

Who the hell had outed them? Why was it already ‘suspect’? And, more importantly, why the hell was his rank still marked like that?

Damn it, James. His hatred of lying was going to get someone killed, one of these days.

The others followed behind Qrow, their voices low and tasting of bitterness as their words reached Qrow. Even Ruby kept her distance, and that just stung. Like she, and all of them, thought he was gonna do something because of some stupid news report. Was he annoyed? Yeah. Was he worried? Hell yeah. But fuck, he wasn’t going to lose his shit over it. He’d been startled. That was why he’d dropped the Scroll.

And maybe a little curious, in that sort of half-detached, half-deliriously hopeful way that made him wonder what this meant for a marriage of convenience dropped smack dab into the public eye.

The air in the elevator was thick, anxiety crawling amidst the recycled cold air, wriggling between everyone and nudging them as far apart as they could get. Qrow pressed himself into a corner of the elevator, running possibilities through his head. Clover hovered nearby, watching him with narrowed eyes and a slight frown. If not for the way his eyebrows peaked above the bridge of his nose, he might have looked angry.

He kept opening his mouth, pausing, then closing it again. Qrow pretended not to notice. If Clover wanted to talk, he could talk. Qrow wasn’t stopping him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to encourage him, either.

The door dinged, slid open, and there was Winter, pacing at the bottom of the stairs leading up into James’ office. Her bun was slightly askew, a few hairs out of place and she leaned into her steps, shoulders pushed forward and chin jutted out. Penny stood off to one side of the stairs, her hands clasped in front of her. She rocked her weight from one foot to the other, swaying back and forth as her eyes followed Winter’s pacing.

Winter stopped as the group shuffled out of the elevator. She pivoted on her heels and nodded at them all, before turning and heading up to James’ office. Not a word.

“Okay, that’s weird,” said Ruby, half mumbling. “Is she usually like that?” To Weiss, by the tilt of Ruby’s head in the corner of Qrow’s vision.

Weiss sighed. “Only when she’s scared.” Weiss nudged passed the rest of them and hurried after Winter. Of the group, she was the only one not in her hunting uniform. At lunch, the kids had all changed into their new outfits, but Weiss had remained in her sweats. It was probably related to her haircut, if Qrow had to guess. He understood the need for sudden, sharp changes. Hell, he’d changed outfits for the first time in twenty fucking years because of Atlas.

He wasn’t gonna question her, even if he had questions. He knew enough how hard it was to go through shit with people watching without being bombarded by questions.

With a sigh, Qrow followed after Weiss and Winter, nodding to Penny as she went. Penny skipped forward and walked next to the kids as they all made their way into the office.

The stars in the ceiling were glowing from the weak afternoon light that shone through the floor to ceiling windows. James sat, hunched over his desk, elbows heavy on the surface and hands clasped together, prayer-like, in front of his bowed head and pinched brow.

He sighed, broad shoulders lifting and falling as if a great weight bore down upon them.

“You were right.” James’ words, low and heavy with exhaustion, tugged Qrow toward him until Qrow’s fingers brushed against the surface of his desk. “I should have changed your rank when I had the chance.”

“Can’t change it now,” said Qrow, shrugging with one shoulder. He leaned into the desk, partially sitting on it. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Winter.” James lifted one hand and gestured vaguely at the blank holoscreens above his desk. Winter nodded, tapped at her Scroll, and the screens floated off the desk, growing in size until they blocked out one of the windows at eye height.

The news report faded onto the screen, audio following suit.

“This aired about fifteen minutes ago,” said Winter. Murmurs behind Qrow as the kids all fell into place around him, their attention, like his, on the screens.

_“Good afternoon Atlas. I’m coming to you live to report a fascinating and borderline unbelievable scandal that has been revealed to us by SDC CEO, Jacques Schnee,”_ said the reporter.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” muttered Weiss, and Qrow frowned. How the hell had Jacques figured this out? Sure, he’d seemed a little suspicious yesterday, but Jacques, to Qrow’s knowledge, was the dumbest Schnee by far. So where had he gotten the damn brain cells to think to check Qrow’s license? It wasn’t even full public. Just military public. And Jacques wasn’t military.

Huh.

_“Headmaster-General James Ironwood has long been a proponent of eliminating the oft-criticized politic marriage traditions within Atlas. Often questioned for these criticisms, the only response we’ve ever been given by General Ironwood is his disdain for ‘tradition for the sake of tradition’, as well as his belief that marriage should be an institute of love, rather than an institute of politics, in our modern society.”_ The reporter adjusted her Scroll, swiping down. She tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear and gave a professional, empty-eyed smile to the camera. _“However, today we have an answer as to the_ true _source of his disdain for our traditions.”_

Nora snorted. “Yeah, because breaking tradition is totally a bad thing, right?”

“In Atlas? Yes. Yes it is,” said Weiss. She flicked her head to one side, chin length hair brushing against her face, then frowned and hunched her shoulders. Old habits.

Yeah. Qrow kept reaching for his flask when he got anxious. He understood.

“This is crazy,” said Harriet. “Jacques’ not this smart.”

“No,” said Winter, her voice hard. “He’s not.”

_“By doing some digging on the information we received about Vale Huntsman Qrow Branwen’s huntsman license from Mr. Schnee, we’ve managed to uncover a few things. Firstly, this information is_ correct. _Qrow Branwen, a huntsman with a reputation for brutality and sarcasm, is, in fact, General Ironwood’s husband of several years. As Qrow Branwen has no status of importance, we can only assume this marriage is based on love.”_ The reporter gave the camera a flat look. _“Though, frankly, I don’t see the appeal.”_

“Oh fuck you, that’s just low,” said Harriet. She looked up at Qrow as Ruby patted his arm. “You’re fine. You kicked Clover’s ass; most people can’t do that.”

Qrow snorted. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” But his stomach still flipped over. If it came out _why_ they were married, they’d both be in shit. But, more than that, having a complete stranger claim that he wasn’t good enough for James _bothered_ him. Was that what all of Atlas was going to think of him?

Was he going to be under scrutiny for something he didn’t even have – James’ love?

The report continued, Qrow only half paying attention to the parts he could hear over his own thoughts.

_“We’ll keep all you viewers at home up to date as we uncover more information about this torrid affair and answer the question of just why General Ironwood married a huntsman from Vale. Is there more to the story beyond our assumptions of love? We’ll update you as soon as we know.”_

“That’s enough. Turn it off,” said James, his voice low. The screens went blank, then vanished. All attention turned to Qrow, still leaned on the desk, and James, still hunched over it.

“So,” said Yang. “What do we do now?”

James spoke before Qrow could find the words to try. “I’ve lobbied for years for the removal of political marriages in Atlas, if the truth of my marriage with Qrow comes out, all of my arguments will lose legitimacy.” He lifted his head, revealing shadows beneath his eyes that had little to do with a lack of sleep. “Beyond that, my reputation will be tarnished for using my status for spy work, not to mention lying.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low sigh. “And as much as _I_ don’t care about what people think of me, I’ve been told it’s important in times of war.”

“So, we play to it,” said Qrow, with a shrug. “How hard can it be, playing husbands?”

“I think I’ve seen this movie,” whispered Nora.

“ _Nora_ ,” hissed Ren. Qrow ignored them both.

“Harder than you’re thinking, certainly,” said James. He clasped his hands together in front of his mouth and raised his gaze to Qrow’s. “You’ll be expected to take on the role of a Lieutenant General, giving orders to the military, checking in with operations, even running your own. Not to mention appearances at public events, keeping up with all military happenings, as well as social expectations.”

Clover cleared his throat. “What about the _other_ thing, sir?”

“Other thing?” echoed Yang. “What aren’t you telling us this time?” She folded her arms.

Qrow looked at James and raised an eyebrow. He had no idea. “Jim?”

James winced, pushed away from his desk, and stood. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced around his desk to stand at its side.

When he spoke, it was clear he was reciting something. “‘In the event that the General of Atlas already holds a seat on the Atlesian Council, the Council seat held by the General will instead be held by the Lieutenant General, so long as the Lieutenant General is eligible.’” James looked at Qrow and Qrow blinked a few times. Wait _what_? “You’re a trained huntsman familiar with the rank and file of Atlas. With our marriage being outed, that means I lose my second seat on the Council, Qrow. And _you_ will take it, instead.”

Qrow nearly fell over.

He stumbled back, eyes wide. A Council seat? What the _fuck_? He’d never had anywhere near that much responsibility. He didn’t even lead field teams, for fuck’s sake. How the hell was he supposed to be on the Council? He’d fuck it up. And if he just voted with James without explanation, that’d create a lot of problems, too. Why was this a rule? Who had come up with this shitty system? Were they alive? Could Qrow punch them?

He really wanted to punch them.

“We can give you a run down of the Council standards, if that’d help,” said Clover, sounding far too calm. “And, you know, get you the Lieutenant General uniform.”

“Fuck that,” said Qrow, gripping the desk to stabilize himself. “Took me twenty years to change my outfit the first time. This one stays.” Besides, he liked having James’ filigree all over his arms. Made him feel wanted, claimed. Like James wasn’t afraid to showcase that he and Qrow meant something to each other.

“So that’s it?” asked Jaune. “We’re just gonna play along with this? Pretend you guys are married for real – er, for love, I guess? – instead of for spy stuff?”

Nora was grinning. “I’ve _definitely_ seen this movie.”

Ren sighed and put a hand over her mouth, using his other to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Don’t mind her. She’s…”

“Yeah, I know,” said Qrow. Nora glared from behind Ren’s hand and folded her arms across her chest, but she made no move to step away from him. Qrow didn’t pretend to understand. Those two had a relationship you’d need half a dozen codebreakers to understand.

“We don’t have a choice,” said James. “It would ruin a great deal to out our reasonings.” He looked to Blake. “You told me that my reputation can colour the way the people of Atlas and Mantle act toward one another and the government. Do you think it wise to tell them that the man who lobbies for love in marriage above all else to tell the kingdom I married for spy work?”

“Not at all,” said Blake, her tone dry. Her ears swivelled back and forth. “This is one of the few times I think a lie would be ethical. There’s too many questions that could be asked. Too much trust at stake. If you were willing to bend the rules for this, what else would you bend them for?”

“Hey, James didn’t—” started Qrow.

“I know,” said Blake, levelling him with a hard look. “But does Mantle?” One of her ears cocked to one side. “Do the other Council members?”

James and Qrow looked at each other.

“Question,” said Ruby, raising her hand. They all looked to her. “Does this mean Yang and I are technically higher ranked now? Or does that only work for like, immediate family?” She tipped her head to one side, wrinkling her brow and her nose at them.

Qrow shrugged.

“If you were his children, yes, but as you’re his nieces, no,” said James. He picked his Scroll up from the desk and swiped through a bunch of news displays. Qrow could only just make out some of them. Chirper feeds, MyFace updates, news articles. All sorts of social media that was lauding or demonizing James for his marriage. A _lot_ of questions about his sexuality. A lot of questions about the legitimacy of the marriage.

And… _hope._

James tilted the Scroll to Qrow and Qrow’s mouth fell open, eyes going wide and soft at once.

Cheeps talking about how proud people were of James marrying for love. MyFace and blog posts all talking about how exciting it was for the General to be so much like the rest of them – awkward, loving, and queer. Others were using it to prove that James’ proactive, socially forward policies were truth, genuine, rather than trying to play to the younger generation.

For the first time since Qrow had arrived in Atlas, the social media feed of Atlas and Mantle had more positive messages about James than negative, and the detractors, the haters, were being beaten back by citizens whose profile images made them look not much older than his nieces. Beaten back and told they were wrong, they were bigoted, and General Ironwood was a good man.

“Look at that,” said James, quietly.

“Woah, that’s kind of intense,” said Yang. Qrow looked up and saw the kids and the Ace-Ops all on their Scrolls as well. Yang lifted her gaze and met Qrow’s. “You know… people united over love don’t tend to draw Grimm.”

“She has a point,” said Weiss. “This might be the happiest I’ve seen Atlesian social media in months.”

Nora wiggled free of Ren and threw an arm around Weiss’ shoulders. Weiss raised an eyebrow at her. “We can use this!” she said, bouncing up and down. “If everyone is watching you two and being excited over you being together, all while we’re patching up Mantle and giving them supplies, we can have extra time and stuff for the Coliseum project!”

“She’s right,” said Jaune. “We’re already planning to make up the difference in the supplies we’re taking from Mantle, but this could be a good distraction on top of that. They get supplies, repairs, _and_ something wholesome and cute to watch.” Qrow raised an eyebrow at Jaune, who flushed bright red. “Not that you two are cute. Um…”

Clover chuckled. “Oh no, they are. You ever seen General Ironwood around kids? He’s _adorable._ ” Clover was grinning as he cooed. Clover folded his arms and raised both eyebrows at Qrow. “I think it’s a great idea.”

James sighed and stepped up to Qrow. Qrow leaned into him until their shoulders brushed.

“Are you sure about this?” asked James, looking over all of them. “There’s a lot at risk here, if we try for this. I don’t want you all uncomfortable with the lies that will pile up from such a scheme.”

Blake shrugged. “Lies are part of politics. Frankly, I’d rather lie about _this_ than something that could actually hurt people. Sure, finding out you’re not in love would hurt people, a lot of people, but that’s not something we have to worry about in the midst of war.”

“And what about after?” asked James.

Blake levelled him with a look so flat it turned her gold eyes cold. “If you both survive, we’ll figure it out then.”

The temperature, and the mood, of the room seemed to dip with the statement.

Ruby winced. “Well, on that cheerful note…” She nudged up to Blake. “I think it’ll be fine as long as we’re careful.” She gave Qrow a little smile and Qrow let himself return it, even as he rolled over the dozens of thoughts that wouldn’t stop running through his mind.

“Why don’t all of you get back to training while James and I sort some stuff out?” asked Qrow, leaning back against the desk and folding his arms loosely across his chest. “Come on, you can break soon and start on your missions tomorrow.”

Ruby sighed. “Fine. But we’re gonna talk more later.” She put her hands on her hips and Qrow couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, okay. Now get going,” said Qrow, waving her off with one hand.

The kids all filtered out, though Qrow didn’t miss the way Nora hesitated at the door with slightly narrowed eyes. Qrow winced and glanced away from her. No doubt she’d tell Oscar all this the moment he got out of class, considering how close they were.

And with Oscar seeing shit from Oz, there was no telling if he knew about Qrow’s whole _shit_ with James. Qrow hoped not. That drunken rant to Ozpin about the merits of James’ pants and how nice they made his ass look were uh… not safe for children, to say the least.

Fuck, why had he ever said that shit to Oz? They hadn’t needed that. Qrow didn’t need anyone other than himself knowing what he thought of the parts of James’ body he’d seen, and what he fantasized about the parts he hadn’t seen.

Poor kid if he did get those memories. Qrow hoped Oz had enough control over what Oscar saw to prevent _that_ from happening. But who knew, at this point.

Penny left alongside the Ace-Ops, but Clover and Winter both hesitated as the door swung shut behind everyone else.

“General,” said Winter, casting a glance from Qrow to James. “If you believe this will work, I’ll stand behind you. But you’ve never been one for lying, and I cannot say I’m… on board with the idea of lying about something you stand so strongly against.”

James nodded. “I understand, Winter. However, just because I don’t like to lie doesn’t mean I’m not capable of it. War makes for hard decisions, and this was one I hadn’t anticipated. We’ll sort out the details and release a statement as soon as we can. Until then, keep your head down.” Winter nodded, narrowed her eyes at Qrow, then turned on her heels and left.

That left Clover.

“You gonna tell us that lying’s wrong, too?” asked Qrow, cocking an eyebrow at Clover.

Something flickered in Clover’s expression, something sad and broken. Something that Qrow only ever saw reflected in the mirror.

But it was gone as quick as it came, leaving behind the cheerful, loyal soldier that Clover always was.

“Whatever you need from me, General Ironwood, Qrow, I’ll be happy to help with,” said Clover.

“Thank you, Clover,” said James, inclining his head.

Clover took a visible breath, brow furrowed. “However, I really want to emphasize how much of an impact this will have on the younger folks of Atlas and Mantle. It wasn’t so long ago that same-sex marriage was illegal in our kingdom, and it was _you_ who changed that, sir.” Clover nodded to James. “There will be a lot of scrutiny, but there will also be a lot of support. Lies are difficult at the best of times, but having a lie that brings people, especially those so much like ourselves, a great deal of joy will be harder. You’ve got my support, and my ears, if you need them. I don’t want you to run yourselves ragged over moral dilemmas you can’t change.”

_Like ourselves?_ Queer. That had to be it. James had been gay as long as Qrow had known him, all the way back to Beacon. Qrow? Well, Qrow had never given a shit one way or the other. Long as someone was legal, willing, and in their right mind, sex was great. Attachment was harder.

Made him wonder how Clover fell on that spectrum, but it wasn’t his business.

They were colleagues, not friends.

“Thank you, Clover,” said James. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That goes for you, too, Qrow,” said Clover.

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Go bother your teammates, hotshot. We already know I don’t need to be down there.”

With a quiet laugh, Clover saluted James, turned, and headed out of the office.

Qrow looked at James.

“So, now what?” asked Qrow.

“Food,” said James, rubbing one gloved hand over his face. “And painkillers. After that, we’ll figure out a story.” He pushed off the desk and headed for the door. “Come on, we’ll eat at the apartment.”

Qrow followed after him, stomach doing sick flips as he went. He didn’t even know if he _could_ eat, but he had to try. He couldn’t let James know how badly this was affecting him.

Responsibility, public eye, yeah all that sucked.

But being publicly married to James Ironwood, supposedly for love? Qrow couldn’t think of anything better to celebrate his sobriety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are deeply appreciated! Long, short, or emoji. Thank you for reading!


	15. Cover Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh... man, the emotion of this one is just all over the place.
> 
> Also, I'm officially switching to bi-weekly updates for the rest of the year. It's a little frustrating because I wanted to have more chapters out before Volume 8 airs, but I promise that volume 8 won't stop this fic. I'm really excited to see how hard they diverge from each other. All things considered. Maybe it'll give me more to wor with!
> 
> The hope of bi-weekly updates is that I'll be able to get my feet under me, get back to writing regularly after all the illness-related drops over the last few months, and get a few chapters ahead so I can go back to posting weekly sometime in 2021. ...God that's weird to say.
> 
> Enjoy!

Late lunch was sandwiches and soup, made and heated while James and Qrow worked side-by-side in the modest kitchen that made up James’ – their? – condo. Qrow handled heating the soup on the stove while James made sandwiches, mostly because neither one of them trusted Qrow with knives and precise motions, at the moment. It’d be another few days, at least, before Qrow trusted his fine motor instead of just his gross. As it was, he’d already lost three toothbrushes to the toilet. It didn’t matter if the toilet hadn’t been _used_ when he’d dropped them in, he was never going to use them again.

James had laughed each time, the last time commenting that Qrow had definitely stuck his mouth in less hygienic places. Which wasn’t the point. Qrow had _chosen_ those places. He hadn’t _chosen_ toilet-toothbrush. Plus, there was no _fun_ in toilet-toothbrush, James, and he’d waggled his eyebrows until James had laughed again, snorting in that way he didn’t unless it was just the two of them and he’d let down his guard.

Food in hand, soup on the counter for later, James and Qrow tucked up on the couch, tucked close enough together that their legs brushed whenever one of them shifted.

“Your idea of sandwiches is fucking ridiculous,” said Qrow, eyeing the vegetable laden sandwich that included both cold meat and bacon, two kinds of cheese, a very tasty sauce, and approximately six or seven kinds of vegetables. Also salt and pepper.

James chuckled, cheeks dusting pink above his beard. “Well, usually they’re a lot less involved, but I heard you skipped lunch and—”

“And you’re trying to take care of me?” guessed Qrow, tone teasing.

James’ smile turned soft. “Yes. I am.”

Qrow’s face turned hot and he ducked his head. Oh.

Just. _Oh._

“Is that a bad thing?” James’ voice was low, almost apologetic. Qrow lifted his gaze and met James’. He bit the inside of his cheek at the tender look on James’ face. At the slanting eyebrows and kind eyes and the slight curl at the edge of his lips, marking a tiny smile in the expanse of his beard.

“No,” said Qrow, matching James’ tone. “Not at all.”

James’ smile spread. “Good. I’m glad.”

Qrow tucked into his sandwich, using it to avoid looking, talking, everything revolving around James. His ears burned and so did his cheeks, but at least he could argue the flush was leftover effects of detoxing. Mostly, he tried to convince himself not to pick at those words, that look. James was his friend, and no amount of Qrow wishing for those feelings to tilt in favour of romance would change them.

“So,” said James, when Qrow was done his sandwich and James was half done his own, “we should probably discuss our marriage.”

Qrow was _very_ glad he wasn’t eating, seeing as he managed to choke on air at those words.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Yeah?”

James hummed and set down his sandwich. He still wore his gloves, which were now speckled with various foodstuffs, and he frowned down at them. Qrow reached out, unthinking, and tugged at the glove on his right hand, pulling until James pulled his hand away.

Qrow frowned, but it fell when James finished what Qrow started, peeling off his right glove, then his left, before tossing them to the other end of the couch.

“A cover story,” said James. He hummed, stroking his chin with one hand. “A backstory, I suppose. Our marriage has been official for what, two, three years?”

“Two years, ten months,” mumbled Qrow, without pause.

James blinked. “Impressive.”

Qrow’s face warmed. “Look,” he said, clearing his throat. “If we’re gonna have some big charade going on, I’m gonna keep track of the details.”

James chuckled. “Fair enough,” he agreed, with a nod. “Well then, I don’t suppose you have any ideas on how to explain all this to the public?”

Qrow shrugged. Oh, he had a few. Thoughts and fantasies he’d entertained when he was drunk, bruised, and wishing for death or sleep – whichever came first – in some beat-up motel, abandoned cabin, or just a hole in a hill he’d found for the night. Fantasies of James breaking free of his part-personality, part-semblance driven nature of pushing himself until he broke, just for Qrow. Fantasies of James telling his kingdom that he loved Qrow, consequences be damned. Dreams of Qrow flying into James’ home, late in the night, just to surprise him by curling up next to him.

Dreams of sharing a look that meant more than just what spoken words could say, before parting ways.

Yeah, Qrow had a few. But none he’d share with James.

“No,” he said, clearing his throat, “not really.”

James picked at his sandwich, doing that thing where he pulled the ingredients out one by one and ate them on their own. It was the same thing he’d seen Weiss do a dozen times since they’d started traveling together. Maybe it was an Atlas thing. Or maybe she’d picked it up from him.

He was down to just meat and cheese in the second half of his sandwich when he spoke.

“Frankly, I don’t think the details of our so-called love life need to be public. We only need to give the people enough to believe the sanctity of the marriage, as well as give them a reason to humanize me, correct?” James looked at Qrow for the last part, eyebrows raising. Qrow nodded. He didn’t understand a lot about politics, either, but likeability was a big part of it. Jacques was pretty well hated in Mantle, but Atlas didn’t trust Mantle citizens or its council seat candidate, Robyn Hill.

Where the hell had Qrow heard that name before? It kept itching at his brain, but he couldn’t place it. Damn.

Fucking drinking. Must have taken out that memory along with so many others.

“Pretty sure making you seem more human and approachable outside of your students is a good idea, yeah,” said Qrow. He leaned back into the couch, stretching. “Maybe that’s the trick of it, Jim. Stop treating Atlas and Mantle like things to be conquered and look at them more like your students. They like you, right?”

James chuckled. “I hope so. I have many teams make appointments in my office hours just to chat, catch up with things, and ask me what I’m up to. They seem to enjoy my company.”

Qrow hummed. “Yeah, you’ve always been good with kids.” It was part of why Qrow hadn’t been surprised when James was made headmaster of Atlas Academy. Yet, to take both the roles of headmaster and general was a lot. But then, that was James, wasn’t it? Always taking on too much and relying on everything he had and then some to keep himself alive.

“Thank you. I do try,” said James. He cleared his throat. “Well, using the official marriage date is the only logical step. I suppose we’ll need rings?” Qrow nodded. With red cheeks, James set down his plate and slipped off the couch, heading to a side table against one wall. “Now, I don’t want to hear anything about this…”

Qrow cocked his head at the words, eyebrows up. What was James talking about?

But when he opened the side table, it all made sense. Two little jewellery boxes, one slightly larger than the other.

“You have rings?” asked Qrow, eyebrows raising further.

James sighed, face turning even redder than it already had. His ears were the best indicator, glowing a hot, deep red that left Qrow biting the inside of his cheek to keep from commenting on them.

“It was a contingency,” said James, setting the boxes down on the coffee table as he sat back down. “In the event that our marriage was discovered, I wanted to ensure that its…” He hesitated, pressing his lips together and wrinkling his brow, “believability?” Qrow shrugged. “Right well,” James cleared his throat, “I wanted to ensure that there was nothing to give away the nature of our arrangement. Thus,” he gestured, “rings.”

“Rings,” echoed Qrow, eyeing the two boxes. “Why two boxes? One for you and one for me?”

James looked away. “Not quite.” He took the smaller box and cracked it open. “An engagement ring,” he said, words far away as Qrow stared at the ring, “bought months prior, when I first had the idea. Just in case.”

_Months prior…_

Silver, or maybe steel. That colour, though, gleaming up at Qrow. A tiny blue stone with fire Dust inlaid around it. Qrow cracked a smile. He reached out to take it, only for James to pull the box away. Qrow frowned, brow furrowed.

“Not yet,” said James. He set the box in his lap and picked up the other. “And wedding bands, for both of us.” He opened the box to reveal two more rings. One pale gold and silver, the other white gold and steel. Smaller, then larger. The intertwining metals forming half a heart on one side of the ring. Set into the box as they were, the halves lined up almost perfectly.

Two rings, one heart.

“Wow,” breathed Qrow, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “You went all out, James.”

“I don’t do things by halves,” he replied. He set down that box and took the engagement ring from the first. Holding out a hand, he said, “May I?”

Qrow blinked, confused, then felt his cheeks warm when he caught the implication. If Tai could see him now, blushing while his best friend put a damned ring on his finger for a fake marriage. He’d laugh for fucking weeks.

James slipped the ring onto Qrow’s ring finger. Qrow stared. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore rings on his left hand. Now, he had two. One on, one still in the box.

James took the second ring and slipped it on as well, running his metal thumb along the band. “There you are,” he said, voice soft. He lifted his head, and his gaze, and Qrow held his breath so he wouldn’t do anything stupid. So close, so soft. He could have reached out and kissed James. Run his fingers through James’ hair and beard and laughed into his jawline until James laughed back.

Instead, he dropped his gaze to the second box.

“Here, lemme put yours on, then,” murmured Qrow, trying to hear his own thoughts over the too-loud beating of his heart. He snagged the ring, shaking his hand to hide the trembling in his fingers, and took James’ left, slipping it onto his ring finger. “What’s the phrase? ‘With this ring, we be wed’?”

James let out a quiet chuckle. “Something like that.” He turned his hand over and curled his fingers against Qrow’s for a moment. “But I think that only works at the altar.”

Qrow hummed. “Damn. Missed out on that, then.” A risky joke, but one he couldn’t resist, given the strange, dreamlike nature of this whole nonsense.

“You’d want that?” asked James, rubbing his thumb over one side of his ring. “An altar? Vows? The whole wedding thing?”

Qrow’s mouth twisted, not quite a grimace, not quite a smile. “Ah, you know I like pomp about as much as you, Jim. I guess…” He hesitated, shaking his head. “I guess if I was gonna get married, I’d want it to be something to remember. You know, if it was for the right reasons.”

“We didn’t get married for the right reasons?” asked James.

Qrow shook his head, fast enough to make his brain spin. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” Qrow sighed. He met James’ gaze and James smiled at him. “You knew that, didn’t you?” Qrow narrowed his eyes.

James chuckled. “Yes, I did,” he said. Qrow leaned over and flicked him in the ear. James yelped and swatted at Qrow. Qrow leaned back to avoid him, then wobbled and fell back, landing on his back on the couch. James scooted over, plate discarded, and grinned down at Qrow, looming. Qrow had only a second to admire the view before James descended, hands slipping under his shirt and tickling him mercilessly.

Qrow yelped, scrambling. Laughing. Tears in his eyes as he laughed and swatted at James. “James! Please!” His vision blurred as the tears gathered and spread. “Fuck, come on!”

“I always forget how ticklish you are,” said James, laughing brightly as his fingers, one set warm one set cold, danced against Qrow’s skin. Qrow squirmed. His chest hurt from laughing, his face was hot. Everything was too much and he was going to _puke_ if James didn’t stop.

Qrow sucked in as deep a breath as he could, pulled at his magic, and shifted.

James fell face first into the couch as Qrow flew up to the ceiling. Before James could push up, Qrow circled around, squawked, and landed on James’ back. He transformed back, sitting with one leg crossed over the other at the knee and his hands resting on James’ back, one dangerously close to his ass.

“’Sup, Jimmy?” Qrow snickered. “You lose.”

“I could flip you,” said James, muffled from the cushion. “I’m only not doing that because you’re still recovering.”

“Uh-huh,” said Qrow. He leaned to one side, peering down at James, who turned his head enough to glare at Qrow. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“I could take you,” said James, with a huff.

_Yeah, you could. Just not the way you’re thinking._ Qrow cleared his throat. “Nah. Only person that can take me is Tai.”

James raised an eyebrow. “ _Really?_ Remind me to get that story out of him, later.”

Qrow flushed and smacked James’ shoulder. “Fucker.” He hopped to his feet and rolled his eyes, cheeks warm. Okay, so maybe he and Tai _had_ fooled around in the past. And maybe they _had_ rolled around in the sack in the last fifteen years. As long as Raven didn’t find out – and she had no right, all things considered – he’d be fine.

But fuck if he didn’t dread James getting that story. He’d never live it down.

Especially not considering… well. The name thing.

Which Tai still teased him about.

Eight fucking years later.

Bastard.

“Yeah, because I’d lower my standards that far?” Qrow folded his arms.

James pushed himself up and gave Qrow a flat look. “You have standards?”

“Hey!”

James laughed. “I’ve seen some of the people you’ve gone home with, Qrow, in the years we’ve known each other. I can only speak to my own knowledge.”

Qrow narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, well…” He hesitated. He had nothing for that. “Least I don’t have any illegitimate children running around.”

James raised an eyebrow. “And I do?”

Qrow shrugged. “I dunno, Jim.” Qrow’s tone was teasing. “If everything you say about Jacques is true, I can’t imagine Willow would have _three_ kids with him.”

With a groan, James pushed himself to his feet. “That rumour _haunts_ me and you know it. Whitley is thirteen, Qrow. My accident was before his conception.” James pushed a finger into his chest, looming close in an altogether tantalizing way. “And you and I _both_ know I’m sterile, now.”

“Man can dream,” quipped Qrow, without thinking of what it meant. James wrinkled his nose and raised both eyebrows. Qrow shrugged. “Right, I get we have a story to figure out, but I promised Ruby I’d fix her cape. Double duty?”

“Sure,” said James, with a sigh.

Qrow swivelled around and slipped off to the room he’d been using as his own, grabbing Ruby’s cape from the desk chair and tossing it over his shoulder. From there, he gathered the fabric he’d bought in the last day and a half, the sewing kit he’d found in James’ closet, and everything else he’d need.

Back in the living room, he tossed everything onto the couch and coffee table, tossed himself onto the couch, and set to work.

“Two years, ten months,” said Qrow, running his thumbs along the worn seams of the cloak. Ruby had done a number on this, and obviously patched torn stitching over and over again. Her own stitches weren’t near as neat as his own, but she never had the patience for this. It let him drop into a trance, while Ruby always twitched and swayed while she sewed, waiting for it to be over.

Her love of weapon history and weapon building didn’t extend to anything outside of it.

“Where do we go from there?” asked Qrow.

James sighed and sagged against the couch. “I honestly have no idea.” He slid a hand through his beard and stared at the ceiling. “I’m not sure what people will ask. My go-to responses for media questions about my personal life has always been to deflect. I’m not certain a complete shift would be wise.”

Qrow hummed as he laid out the fabric he wanted to line the cloak with, to give it more volume, weight, and weather protection. He laid the ragged cloak atop as he thought. Chalk, scissors, fabric measuring tape, and various other things.

“Nah, not a full one-eighty, but I think a little transparency would do you well,” said Qrow. The smooth glide of the scissors was soothing. Leave it to James to keep even his barely-used sewing kit scissors in tip-top shape.

Though the idea of James hunched over his own greatcoats, sewing holes he’d torn in them from his stupidly broad shoulders, was kind of hilarious. James, comically oversized for the task, and the needle, thread, and spool so tiny in his massive hands.

“What sort of transparency?” asked James. He stretched his arms across the back of the couch and watched Qrow with a tilted head and raised eyebrows. There was a quiet exhaustion that clung to the wrinkles around his eyes, the sag in his cheeks beneath his beard, and the slump to his shoulders that seemed to drag down his entire body.

Discarded fabric, more marks. Thread. This thread was infused with fire Dust. Atlas had some neat tricks for dealing with the cold.

“For starters, telling them how long we’ve been married,” said Qrow. He settled onto the couch to start sewing. This part was by hand, and he’d deal with the rougher parts later. Fuck machine sewing. It was faster, but he hated the noise. Hated the way it vibrated into his bones.

Plus it was harder to hurt himself, by accident, with one sewing needle at his own speed, versus the too-fast up-down motion of a machine controlled needle.

He’d sewn the webbing between his thumb and forefinger into his pants a few too many times to risk the damn thing again. Shit had scarred. Still hurt when it rained too hard, too.

“That seems reasonable,” said James, nodding. His eyes slid closed. Maybe he’d nap, while Qrow worked. He had to get back to work when his lunch hour was over, but Qrow wasn’t in a rush to force him back into his office.

James spent too much time there, as it was.

“And if we’re gonna be lying, it might as well be foolproof,” said Qrow, not looking up from his work as he spoke. Sewing for Ruby was a damn good excuse to avoid James’ gaze for this conversation. “Keep it vague, but believable. Private dating life, long distance relationship, small wedding that was just us, an officiate, and a witness.” Oz and Glynda, respectively. Something else Oscar might learn, if he kept seeing Ozpin’s past in his mind.

What would Glynda think, if she heard what this marriage had become? She’d been against it from the start. She’d probably tell James and Qrow that she’d warned them, that this was their own fault.

If she was still alive, that was.

“And when they ask if you’re prepared for the role you’ve just been granted?” asked James.

Qrow’s hands paused. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opening them on the exhale. Lowered the cloak and his hands to his lap.

“Jim. You’re telling me that I’m taking a Council seat, second-in-command of an army I can barely _stand_ , and I’m going to be facing off against people I only know because I’ve listened to you bitch about them for years.” Qrow looked to James out of the side of his vision, tilting his head just enough to get his bangs from his field of view. “I’m not prepared. Not in the fucking slightest.”

James winced. He opened his eyes and looked at Qrow. Bloodshot, half-lidded, bags dragging them down, but still as beautiful as the day they’d first met. Maybe more so. Qrow had always had a thing for older men. The handful of years between him and James said as much.

“I can help with that,” said James, voice soft. “I won’t leave you to drown, Qrow. This is an intense world to be in, and I know you loathe politics more than I. But I cannot stop what will happen with the kingdom knowing of our arrangement.” James sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Qrow dropped his gaze back to his lap and kept working, trying to ignore the trembling in his fingers.

“S’fine,” said Qrow, even though it wasn’t. “I’m fine.” Even though he wasn’t. “Just tell me how to play politics and I won’t fuck anything up for you too badly.”

A shift on the couch and, in the corner of his eye, Qrow saw James turn toward him, drawing one leg up onto the couch. He rested a hand on his ankle and frowned at Qrow.

“Is that really what you’re worried about? Upsetting me? Ruining things for me in politics?” James’ voice was low and Qrow couldn’t bring himself to look at James’ face. Instead, he kept sewing. “Qrow. Look at me.” Qrow didn’t. “Please, look at me.”

Qrow lifted his gaze. James opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

“We’re a team now,” said James, after a minute. “Your feelings, mine, they matter equally. They always have. We’re friends, Qrow.” The disjointed way he spoke had Qrow sagging into the couch, hands falling limp in his lap. James only ever sounded this disoriented when he spoke before he could think about what he was saying. “Regardless of the nature of our being a team in the eyes of Atlas, we need to act as one. I want to know what bothers you, and I’d hope you feel the same for me.”

Qrow nodded. “’Course, Jim. ‘ve always cared what you feel.”

James smiled. “Good. Then we really aren’t changing that much. If you don’t understand politics, I’ll explain what I can. I’ll show you military procedure.” James shifted on the couch and reached out, laying a hand on Qrow’s knee. “We’re going to do this. Together. All right?”

Qrow nodded a second time. Tension still crept across his shoulders, but it wasn’t as bad. “All right. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” said James, with a smile.

They settled back into their spots, James still resting his hand on Qrow’s knee, and while Qrow sewed, James explained politics in Mantle and Atlas.

There was a lot. But hey, what else was new?

Least he wasn’t doing this alone.

* * *

Training disbanded after another few hours, leaving everyone scattered as they dispersed to handle their evening plans. Dinner, further training, missions, homework (in Oscar’s case) and whatever else everyone had planned.

Weiss’ plans were largely dependent on another person. One who currently was unaware of her involvement in such plans.

“Vine!” called Weiss, hurrying after her as she stepped into the hallway Weiss had posted herself in. She’d been waiting for one of the Ace-Ops to appear so that she could ask where Vine was, considering Weiss didn’t have their Scroll numbers for non-work related things, and their work numbers were currently inactive, as they were off-duty.

An interesting trick that she liked but didn’t understand the inner workings of.

Vine turned, smiling when she saw Weiss. “Weiss. How’re you doing? I understand training was quite difficult?” She said it like a question, but Weiss winced at the implication all the same.

Vine and Elm had left after lunch, doing patrols in Mantle instead of training the team. So, they’d both missed the horrific nonsense in the training room.

The end of training had been… interesting. Yang was a grumbling, snarling mess who had stalked off to the showers. Blake had stolen Marrow away to walk through Mantle, together. Weiss didn’t know why or for what. Jaune, Nora, _and_ Ruby had ended up vomiting during training. Nora on Jaune, Jaune on the floor, and Ruby on Clover.

He’d taken it well, at least. Laughed it off and gotten a towel without much concern for himself. He’d been more worried about Ruby. Weiss had worried, as well, trying to help Ruby as best she could. Ruby had just clung to her, whimpering. She’d been punched pretty hard in the stomach by Clover. Broken aura plus lunch was… not ideal.

Jaune had cried. Nora had begged for forgiveness. Ren had passed out just after lunch and not woken up for the rest of the afternoon.

At least Oscar was safe and sound in classes. Homework was terrible, but he wasn’t dealing with vomit. Lucky, if you asked her.

“It was,” agreed Weiss, with a grimace. “But I didn’t want to talk about training. Actually, I had a question for you.” She drew herself to her full height, which was _tiny_ compared to Vine, even in heels, and smiled up at her.

Vine nodded, raising a pale eyebrow at her. “All right,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“The Ace-Ops modify their costumes from Specialist uniforms, correct?” Weiss asked. Before Vine could respond, she continued, “Did you do the modifications to yours, yourself?”

Vine smiled. “I did. I actually modified both mine and Elm’s. Why?” She tilted her head to one side.

“I was hoping you could help me with mine. I…” Weiss winced. “I can’t wear what I designed. It has too many connections to my past.” She reached up to twirl a strand of hair, but stopped short. No hair.

She lowered her hand.

“I understand,” said Vine, nodding. “Did you want advice?”

“Help,” said Weiss. She took a deep breath. “I was thinking of starting with the Specialist uniform, like what my sister wears, then changing out pieces and adding my own until it feels…” She hesitated.

“Like you,” finished Vine.

Weiss smiled. “Yes. Like me.” She furrowed her brow. “Thank you.”

“I understand the need to match who you are to what you’re wearing and how you look.” Vine stepped forward another step and rested a hand on Weiss’ shoulder. “I’d be happy to help you. Would you like to start now?”

Weiss smiled. “Please.”

“All right. Come on then, I’ll show you where we keep the uniforms.” Vine led her down the hallway and Weiss could have skipped, she was so happy.

Finally. _Finally_ she’d start to figure out who she was, without the shadow of her father looming.

* * *

Ruby glanced up as the door to the dorm slid open, revealing Uncle Qrow, her cape in his hands. He’d stolen it away, after their mission, the night before, and now it was back. Only, it looked much, much better than it had before.

Ruby cheered, leaping to her feet and racing across the room, the taste of roses on her tongue. She grabbed the cape from Uncle Qrow and spun around, holding up it. It was heavier, thicker. Bigger, too. Like a full cloak instead of a cape. She could see the stitch patterns where Uncle Qrow had inlaid fire Dust into the thicker fabric, and the places where he’d patched, layered, and added onto the cape. It wasn’t perfect, but the imperfections had been highlighted with Dust stitches and black thread, turning her cape into a cloak, a quilt, a _story_ , rather than just a drab red thing.

And he’d lined the hood with the same fluffy black fur that Blake had lined her own coat with.

Ruby snuggled against her cape, humming.

“Ah, Uncle Qrow, it’s so awesome, thank you!” She beamed at him.

Uncle Qrow chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted it to be able to protect you, should anything happen. Should be able to fully cover you in the wild, now, and keep you warm.” He frowned a little. “Make sure you train with it, first. That one’s heavier and bigger than you’re used to. You don’t want it to fuck up your fighting just because you’re not used to it.”

Ruby nodded, eyes wide. “I will! I promise.” She hugged it tight and breathed deeply. It smelled like Uncle Qrow’s cheap aftershave, the one Dad always complained about but Ruby loved, and not a whiff of the alcohol that had marred that friendly scent of _home_ for years. She stared up at him, brow furrowing. “When did you even get time for this?” She figured she’d be cape-less for a couple days. She’d been prepared to wear a blanket cape around the dorms until their next mission.

Uncle Qrow shrugged. “I had time last night, after the mission. Plus some time when I wasn’t training with you kids.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and Ruby rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty good with sewing those things.” He stepped further into the room, door sliding shut behind him, and leaned back against the wall, arms folded loosely. “I’ve patched enough of them, in my lifetime.”

Ruby chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand and setting the cape on her bed with the other. “Yeah, I guess I’ve worn them a long time, huh?”

“Your mom, too,” said Qrow, voice quiet. “Hers was trickier though, red on one side and white on the other. Hell of a thing to try and repair. Least yours doesn’t stain.”

Ruby nodded and hopped onto Weiss’ bed, swinging her legs. “Yeah, I guess it would stain really bad if it was white, huh?”

Something in Uncle Qrow’s eyes made Ruby narrow her own, but it was gone as quick as it came.

“Where are the others?” asked Uncle Qrow, crossing the room and settling onto the bed next to Ruby. He clasped his hands together between his knees and Ruby watched him tug at his knuckles and spin his rings.

New rings.

Left hand rings.

_Oh._

That was fast.

“You’ve got wedding rings,” said Ruby, without thinking. She blinked. “Oh, and um, they’re out buying fabric, I think?” She tilted her head. “Weiss is redesigning her outfit and Vine told her where some good fabric was and… I guess that’s where they went?” She shrugged. She hadn’t really kept track. Yang and Blake had been making gooey eyes at each other and Ruby had been tired of listening to people talk and make noise and stuff. She needed a break from people. She was kind of surprised that Weiss had gone. How wasn’t Weiss getting sick of the way Yang and Blake kept fawning over another? Not that Ruby was “sick” of it. More like… it was kind of weird to watch your sister fall in love from the outside, and really weird to be in close quarters with both of them all the time when they could turn around and start making out any day.

Not that they’d do that! Or try to gross out Ruby. Or…

Ruby sighed and dropped her face into her hands. This was too complicated. She was happy for her sister and her teammates, but life was just getting way too complicated, and she couldn’t help the jealousy that dug at her when she saw the way Yang and Blake shyly went back and forth. It was mutual. They both knew it was mutual. It was just a matter of time before they both figured it out and talked it out.

And she shouldn’t have been jealous, but she was. And she shouldn’t have been upset, but she was. They’d lost each other, gotten each other back, and now they had time to figure it out. They’d be okay because they both felt the same way.

She should have been _happy_ for them.

Instead, she just wanted to get away from them. Away from their happiness, away from their feelings, away from their looks. Because she couldn’t have it. They could, and she couldn’t. And that just wasn’t _fair._ They’d all suffered so much. And she wasn’t entitled to feelings, but didn’t she get to try? Didn’t she hurt just as much as them?

“Kid?” Uncle Qrow’s hand rested on her midback and Ruby lifted her head to look at him. He offered her a raised eyebrow look. She sighed. “You okay?”

Ruby shrugged. “Yeah.” A pause. “Maybe.” A sigh. “Not really, no. I just…” She dropped her chin into her hands and frowned. “I just wish things were simpler.”

“I get you,” said Uncle Qrow, nodding. Then, “And yeah, they are. Wedding and engagement. James apparently got them back when we started this whole marriage charade, just in case.”

Ruby raised her eyebrows. That sounded funky. She didn’t know a lot about marriages of convenience, but it didn’t seem like the sort of thing you bought rings for. Especially if you weren’t going to be seen with them.

“Why?” asked Ruby.

Uncle Qrow let out a quiet huff. “He likes to be prepared.” There was a dryness to his voice as he spoke. “Sort of his style.”

Ruby nodded, staring down at the floor. “Yeah. That makes sense.” Her words were quiet and far away. Where was Penny? Maybe Ruby could call her. They could hang out for a while. But she was probably busy… And did Ruby really want to call Penny when she was thinking of her sister’s stupid romance?

“Talk to me, kid,” said Uncle Qrow, rubbing her back. “You’ve dealt with a lot in the last few years. And you’ve done a lot to pretend you’re okay.” A pause. Ruby held her breath. “But you’re not. I dunno if everyone sees it, but I do. I see you breaking. The same way I watched Tai break, actually.”

Ruby swallowed. She blinked, but her vision wouldn’t focus. Everything was blurry and bathed in blots of light and dark.

“How did it happen with Dad?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.

Silence. Heavy in a way that left Ruby’s mouth dry and her fingers trembling where they gripped the sides of her face.

Eventually, Uncle Qrow spoke. “It was slow until it wasn’t.” Quiet, rough. Uncle Qrow cleared his throat, but his voice didn’t change. “We did a lot of shit for Oz, after we graduated from Beacon. Older than you, yeah, and with more experience. But…” He sighed. “We all worked together, but it was never something Tai could stomach for long. Summer, Raven, me, we handled the violence, the spy work, the secrets. It hurt, but we did it. Raven and I grew up like that and Summer…” Another hesitation. “I dunno. I don’t know how she dealt with it, but she did.” He cleared his throat again. “But Taiyang... kid I watched the day it broke him. We went out to a village to look into something with a bad Grimm. Something big and custom made by Salem.”

Ruby held her breath until her chest hurt, then held it longer as she thought of the Nuckelavee. Of how long it had ravaged Anima. Of how horrid it was.

Of how many people it had killed.

“People were dead. Lot of ‘em.” Ruby closed her eyes. The Huntsman. The blood. The smell of death, thick in the air. The silence of a village, ten years plus after a massacre. And the screams that had finally broken it.

The inhuman screams.

The monstrous screams.

They were lucky to be alive.

“Tai…” Uncle Qrow hesitated. “We thought it was the Grimm. It wasn’t.” Ruby exhaled, entire body trembling with it. “We found the people who killed them. They’d used a recording of the Grimm’s scream to freak out the village. The hunters, the fighters, they all left. Left the children and the vulnerable behind.” Ruby squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could.

Patch had few fighters. Dad was one of the only ones. With Dad doing missions, who would protect Patch?

What if Salem attacked Patch to try and force Ruby out?

What then?

“They killed the children, Ruby.” Ruby squeezed her eyes tighter. Spots dotted the black behind her eyelids. Tears pushed out of her lids and slipped down her cheeks. She let out a shuddering breath. “So we found them. The bandits.” A pause. “We killed them.”

“What?” Ruby’s voice cracked. Her eyes snapped open. She stared, eyes wide, vision blurry, at Uncle Qrow. “You… killed people?”

Uncle Qrow nodded. “We did it a few times. Sometimes for Oz, sometimes to protect villages. Bad hunters, the ones who go rogue, who hurt for cash, there’s only a few ways to stop them. That’s usually the only one that works for long.” His eyes were soft, but his words fell like knives into Ruby’s ears.

She broke her gaze from him, staring at the desks across the wall. They lined up like soldiers, waiting for orders.

Perfect little soldiers.

They were even dressed in white.

“That time was for revenge, though. For killing kids.” Uncle Qrow sighed. “That’s what broke him, I think. The slaughter, then our slaughter, then going back to help bury them. We got in a fight not long after that. The whole team argued. And just after that? That’s when Raven found out she was pregnant. Last time we went out as a whole team, we murdered. Hell of a way to go down, don’t you think?”

Ruby nodded. She was silent for a few minutes, trying to gather her thoughts.

Uncle Qrow. Dad. Her parents, her family, _the_ team that everyone wanted to be like. They’d been murderers.

But—so was her team. Blake and Yang had killed. Ruby would bet money that Nora and Ren had killed, in the past. Whether on purpose or in self-defense. Orphans in Remnant had a hard time, especially ones who looked like them.

And she, all of them, were working with the military, now. The military killed people. And people had died in the short time they’d been in Atlas. People who had stood against General Ironwood. Who had killed them?

Where was the limit, in death, in murder? When was it okay? When was it not? Was it ever okay? If it wasn’t, then what Yang and Blake had done was wrong. And Ruby couldn’t possibly argue that. They’d done what they had to do. They would have died if they hadn’t killed Adam. He would have never stopped. Not until—

What was the right answer? Was there a right answer? Was it case-by-case?

Could Ruby even make that argument, when she didn’t have that kind of blood on her hands? When the worst thing she’d ever done was vaguely maim someone?

She didn’t know. She just didn’t know.

“Uncle Qrow?” asked Ruby.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Can we watch a movie or something?” Ruby rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m so tired of thinking.”

Uncle Qrow hugged her close. “Sure thing, kid. Sure thing.”

* * *

Robyn watched the news rerun in her apartment, squinting at the screen. It had apparently run for the first time, hours ago, but she and the others had been out all day. Joanna, Fiona, and May had snuck into the mines, gathered Dust, and snuck back out, while Robyn worked to keep the soldiers distracted while they worked. One of the advantages to having a reputation as a difficult, belligerent woman who didn’t respect anyone in Atlas (mostly true) was that most soldiers would work to avoid her, or else would puff up like some stupid bird with its territory at risk.

Idiots, really. Didn’t they know women travelled in packs? Especially in a military city?

“General Ironwood’s married?” asked Joanna from the kitchenette, where she was preparing dinner for everyone. They’d stashed the Dust hours ago and now were waiting for nightfall to slip out and deliver it.

“General Ironwood’s gay?” asked May, sitting on the dining table and sipping on a juice pouch. She’d definitely stolen it. Robyn didn’t care.

Robyn folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. She was standing, weight on one leg and a step from her couch. Fiona sat on the couch, feet on the cushion and arms around her knees.

“What do you think?” asked Fiona.

Robyn chewed on her tongue. “It could be real.” She blew her hair out of her face. “But it depends on the huntsman, Branwen.” She knew a little about Qrow Branwen, though mostly because of her research on Team STRQ back when she was a student in AA. What had his file called him? He had a problem with authority, was drunken and belligerent, and listened to no one except his team leader, who had been dead for fifteen years.

Not the sort of man she expected Ironwood to marry.

“What do you mean?” asked May.

Robyn shook her head. “Everything I know about Ironwood doesn’t match up with what I know about Branwen.” She reached up and undid her ponytail, letting her hair fall loose. Sweat clung to the roots of her hair. She needed a shower. But the water shortage in Mantle was still in full effect. Showers once a week at most, five to seven minutes maximum. She needed to save it for after a Dust run. A bad one.

“Ironwood likes to be in control,” said Robyn, combing her fingers through her hair. “He’d want to dominate whoever he was with in all aspects of life. Branwen, from what I remember, is belligerent, loud, and has a problem with authority.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not someone Ironwood could deal with, long term. He’d hate not being able to push Branwen around all the time.” She cast a glance to the others. Joanna nodded, stirring the stew she was making. “My guess? Ironwood’s trying to win the progressive vote in Mantle for Schnee.”

“But Jacques Schnee is who outed them,” said Fiona.

“Precisely,” said Robyn, snapping her fingers. “Schnee can use it to argue that he thought the people deserved honesty. Ironwood can then thank Schnee for the ‘opportunity to be honest with the people’.” She used air quotes. “That’ll give Schnee the chance to pretend he’s progressive, instead of the bigoted, close-minded fuckwit we know he is.”

“Damn,” said May. “Good play.” She sounded as disgusted as she sounded impressed. “Fuck.”

“What’s the plan, boss?” asked Joanna. All three women looked to Robyn and Robyn sighed.

“We remind the people of Schnee’s bigotry while continuing to prove our own dedication to equality for all in Mantle and in Atlas,” said Robyn. She blew at her bangs again. “We have more than enough proof of Schnee’s bigotry. We can use that. May?” May raised an eyebrow. “Find out if this marriage is real, would you?”

She grinned. “You got it.”

“What about the mines?” aske Fiona, ears folding down. “We’re running out of Dust, Robyn.”

“And the coliseum,” added Joanna. “Fishy shit.”

Robyn nodded. “We wait. There are trucks going to the mines every day. We find an isolated area near some rocks; we form up a barrier. Stop a truck, ask questions.”

“Most of the trucks are automated,” said May.

Robyn said, “Most, but not at all. Sooner or later, we’ll see someone we can push for answers. Until then, we keep doing what we do. We steal Dust, gather intel, talk to the voters. Help the people. That’s all we can do.”

“Sounds good,” said May.

Fiona flopped back on the couch. “No rest for the wicked.”

“And we’re pretty damn wicked,” said Joanna, with a chuckle. “Now let’s eat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So that was a thing. Am I right?
> 
> Seriously shoutout to everyone who has left feedback and comments and theories on this fic. It gives me so much life. Thank you.
> 
> Comments are adored and responded to eventually! So, if you can, that'd be appreciated. Thank you! And thank you for reading! <3


	16. Bridges, Not Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man this is a fun one. For me, at least. Lots of little details I got to bring in that I've wanted to bring it for a while. Also, I have a vague idea of how long this is going to be. So, that's rad.
> 
> More changes. More original scenes. More grey morality. I love James, truly I do, but everyone makes bad decisions sometimes, and everyone has blind spots.

Coffee didn’t taste nearly as good as all the caffeine addicts around Qrow made it seem. Sure, he’d been drinking it for years, but always with something stronger mixed in. Drinking straight coffee, albeit with cream and more sugar than he’d admit to, was shit.

Ugh.

Qrow grimaced as he sipped at the too hot monstrosity, watching as James puttered around the kitchen, squinting at his Scroll while he drank his own coffee, black.

 _Eugh._ A stronger man than him, by far.

“I’ve an important stop to make before work, this morning,” said James, out of nowhere. Qrow raised his eyebrows as James looked at him. “Would you like to come with me?”

Qrow shrugged. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he was going to training with the kids. He may have needed to touch up his teamwork skills, but he was still too damn unsteady on his feet for more than a minute of fighting at a time. Give it a few more days before he joined them properly. “Where are we going?”

James drained his coffee and set it down on the counter. The sound echoed in the quiet of the space. “To see an old friend.” His gaze darted from the Scroll, to Qrow, and back again. “It’s easier to explain there.” A quiet plea to wait until then. Qrow nodded. Sure, he could wait. He trusted James.

Their journey took them into the bowels of Atlas Academy, passed many security checkpoints that had Qrow raising his eyebrows higher and higher into his hairline with every red light turning green. Soldiers paused to salute him, Specialists paused to both salute and to gawk. Qrow caught more than one dirty look once James had passed his soldiers.

He rolled his eyes, even as he hunched his shoulders and shuffled closer to James. The hell did they know? He stuffed his hands in his pockets. People could mind their own damn business.

Where were they going? Beyond the bowels of the school, that was. He didn’t recognize these hallways, and the further they got, the fewer people were around, until only two remained: a pair of soldiers on either side of a heavily fortified door.

Qrow’s eyebrows climbed higher. What could James be holding in there to make him so careful?

His answer came when they stepped through the door and down a small staircase, leading to a second door. This one opened via retinal scan, and when it swung open, Qrow forgot to breathe.

“Hello, James.” An elderly woman with striking eyes sat beneath a handmade quilt on a comfortable looking bed. Her room was scattered with artistic trappings, a rocking chair, and even a small music player. But it was the woman that drew Qrow’s attention most. “And Qrow. My, it has been what, twenty years since I last saw you?”

Fria Wintergreen.

The Winter maiden.

So _this_ was where James was keeping her.

“Good morning, Ms. Wintergreen,” said James, crossing the space. Qrow blinked, then blinked again. Was this a room or a cell? He stumbled after James, eyes wide and head swinging from her, resting serenely, to James, who was making tea. “Would you like a cup?”

“I would,” said Fria. She tilted her head to one side, then the other, as if working out kinks. “Qrow, come closer. I’d like to catch up.”

“You’re being kept here?” asked Qrow, before he could stop himself. The distinct crack of china as James gripped a mug too tightly. Fria tutted, then patted the spot next to her on the bed. “I thought…”

Fria hummed. “It’s not a five-star resort, certainly, but it’s comfortable, roomy, and I’ve got time for my hobbies.” Her gaze flicked up and down Qrow as he approached, but he didn’t sit. “It’s safer, here, than out there. James told me about the woman trying to steal powers. About the woman who wants to destroy the world.” She grimaced, blinked a few times, and lifted a frail, wrinkled hand to her face, which seemed flusher than it had a moment prior. “I need…” Her voice was faint, far away. Qrow saw down on the bed and reached out for her, but he stopped short. The cold that radiated from her made him wince and retreat. “I need to protect Atlas.”

“The best way you can protect Atlas, right now, is by remaining here, where we can protect you from those who seek to harm you,” said James. He crossed the room and settled onto the chair next to the bed. He offered Fria a mug and she took it with shaking fingers. “How are you, today?”

She sipped from the tea. “A little cold. The room has been chillier, as of late.”

James hummed. “I’ll see to it that the temperature is raised. We can bring in a space heater, if you like.”

Fria smiled. “That would be lovely.” She looked up at the one-way mirror that stared down at the room. A soft sigh slipped from her lips. “How is the weather today?”

Qrow blinked. Huh?

“Sunny,” said James. “It was just passed sunrise when we came in. There are few clouds in the sky and I think I saw some birds.” Qrow hadn’t been paying attention. Had James noticed specifically for Fria? “It’s getting cold. The snow falls more often now, and the winds are quite chilly. But it’s lovely out.”

Fria sighed, staring at her tea. “I wish I could see it.”

“I know,” said James. “I’m sorry.” A pause. He dug something out of his pocket and held it out to Fria. An old Scroll. “I brought you something that might help, if you like.”

Fria set the tea in her lap and took the Scroll, pulling it open. The screen flickered on, revealing a view of the sky, at about the same level as James’ office. She let out a quiet gasp and pulled the Scroll closer. Her tea shifted and Qrow reached forward, balancing the mug before it could overturn.

“A camera?” she guessed, looking at James.

He nodded. “I set up a camera just above my office windows. Two, actually.” He reached out and tapped a spot in the corner, revealing a second view. “One points east, for the sunrise, and one points west, for the sunset. You’ll be able to watch the weather and the days passing whenever you like.”

Fria nodded, a little smile on her face. “Thank you, James.”

She watched the cameras for a few minutes and Qrow fidgeted, uncomfortable. Just when he thought he’d ask James why they were still there, Fria spoke again.

“Have you chosen her yet?” Fria didn’t look away from the Scroll as she spoke. Her words were low, but the weight they carried pinned Qrow to his seat.

“Yes,” said James, nodding. Qrow looked from him, to Fria, and back again. “You’ve met her, actually. Winter, the Specialist who visits you.”

Fria nodded. She set the Scroll down and lifted her head. Her gaze was warm, but the blue was cold. Like ice. “She’s strong, intelligent.”

“She’ll make a good maiden,” said James.

Fria said nothing, staring at her hands. Again, the room lapsed into silence. Fria stared at her trembling hands for a few minutes. She blinked, brow furrowing, and lifted her head after some time.

“General Ironwood. What are you doing here?” Fria stared at James with glassy eyes, none of the shrewd intelligence Qrow had seen before remaining.

James smiled, but it was sad. “Just checking in, Miss Evergreen. Why don’t I have a space heater sent for you?”

“I am rather cold,” murmured Fria. She settled into her blankets. “I’d like to rest, now.” Her fingers touched the Scroll, a question in her face.

“A gift,” said James, standing. “So you can watch the sun. We’ll be off now.”

Fria didn’t respond, her eyes closing as her head lolled to one side.

Qrow followed James out of the room and up the stairs, to the observation area.

“So this is where you’re keeping her,” said Qrow, folding his arms.

James nodded. “I understand if you don’t agree. It was a hard decision. Fria deserves to spend her last days in peace, and happiness, but it’s simply too dangerous to have her out in the world.”

“She use her powers at the wrong time yet?” asked Qrow.

James shook his head. “No. She’s very conscientious about her powers. I think she’s still aware of them, to some extent, no matter her mental state.” James sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m prepared for the hatred I will garner, should the others discover this. I’ve no excuse, bar the ones I’ve given you.”

Qrow frowned. What could he say to that? Hell, he wanted to yell, to shout, to tell James that everything he was saying was true – that this was _wrong_ , this was awful, and Fria deserved better. She was a prisoner in her own mind and taken from her home. Nothing familiar but the trappings of the room. No one to talk to. Nothing to keep her out of her own head. She was trapped in a damn prison cell with the heat turned too low. Alone. Isolated.

And Qrow would bet Harbinger that the only woman she’d seen, heard about, since she’d gotten here was Winter.

All perfectly designed.

But fuck, after Amber, could he blame James?

This was wrong. This was beyond wrong.

But what other choice did he have?

That was the problem with being in power, both in general and in this situation. The problem with having sway over people and responsibility to others.

Sometimes there were no good options. Sometimes there was just pain and more pain and knowing no matter what you did, people would find a reason to hate you.

Qrow sighed.

“This is wrong,” he said, folding his arms. “But in your shoes, it’s probably the same damn thing I’d do. And I _hate_ that.” He grimaced. “Fuck this war.”

“Agreed,” said James, with a sigh. He gave Qrow a tired smile. “Thank you, for agreeing with me. I know it’s hard, immoral even, but…”

“There’s not much else we could do,” murmured Qrow. “We saw what she was willing to do with Amber. If she could find Fria, she’d kill her and anyone who stood in her way.”

Salem or Cinder? Cinder or Salem? Who fucking knew anymore.

He needed a drink.

“Coffee,” said Qrow, voice tight. “And bagels.”

“Of course,” said James. He squeezed Qrow’s shoulder and guided him toward the door. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Ruby fell onto her back, not even bothering to try and cushion the blow as she dropped onto the hard, black floor of the training room.

“ _Uuuuugh_ ,” she groaned, wincing as every muscle in her body ached. It was _awful._ Her bones were crying. Her hair was crying. She hadn’t even known hair could hurt before today.

And they still had to go out and do mission work after all this. _Great._

At least she hadn’t puked today. But that was probably because she hadn’t eaten.

The trade-off was she felt weak all over and her vision had started going blurry about half an hour ago.

“You okay?” asked Weiss, dropping down next to her. Her hair clung to her face and her scar was an ugly red from when she’d gotten punched in the face from Harriet. Weiss was now two for two on training days without puking.

Ruby groaned. “I hurt all over.” She winced as she heard someone hit the ground. Probably Ren. He’d been tossed around a lot today by Elm. Ruby felt bad for him. “This is awful.”

Weiss hummed. “Welcome to Atlas.” There was a bruise blooming under one eye, the scarred one. And it was slightly swollen. Her aura had broken sometime in the last hour, but Harriet hadn’t let up until about ten minutes ago.

Retching in the background. That was Blake. You weren’t allowed to stop until your aura broke and it sounded like Blake’s finally had. It was much worse retching than Nora’s, earlier, and Jaune’s, like twenty minutes ago. Not that everyone puked when their aura broke. Just some.

Thank god for that.

“Shit, lemme get you some wet wipes,” said Clover. He ran by in the corner of Ruby’s vision. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get you that hard.” He passed by again. Ruby pushed herself up enough to see Clover lead Blake over to a place where she could sit down against one of the risen blocks. “You okay?”

Blake nodded, looking green. “You hit hard.”

“Yeah, habit.”

Yang snorted from where she was sitting, nearby. She had her arm off, because Elm had wrenched it pretty hard earlier, and she was still readjusting it. “Seriously? You were the one who warned us about puking and now you feel bad about it? Whatever, man.”

Clover sighed. “Just because I’m well aware that vomiting is likely doesn’t mean I’m going out of my way to induce it. I’m only repeating what I was told in Specialist training.”

Harriet scoffed and hopped up onto the block Blake was sitting against. “Aw, come on Clover, don’t be so wimpy over them. They wanted to be like us, they can take the same punishment we took to _become_ us.” Harriet grinned down at Ruby and Ruby sighed. Harriet was the only person whose aura was still green. Clover and Elm both had yellow aura, Marrow’s was orange, and Vine’s was red. Vine had gone up against Yang, though, so it wasn’t surprising. Yang had raised the temperature of the room a few degrees in her fighting.

Ruby needed to talk to her.

She wasn’t going to, though. Yang didn’t want to talk and Ruby did _not_ have the energy to fight her sister on the ‘leader versus big sister’ thing right now.

“We could have eased them into it,” said Vine.

“Oh, whatever,” said Marrow, waving one hand as he strode over with Nora and Jaune. Ren was around somewhere, but Ruby didn’t know where. Elm might have been helping him patch up. “I got thrown into the deep end, too. Do you know how many times I puked during training with Clover before I figured out how to beat him?”

“Nineteen,” said Clover, offering Blake a water bottle. She took it and sipped slowly.

Marrow wrinkled his nose. “You counted?”

Clover sighed. “I counted.”

“I am so sorry,” said Marrow, staring with wide eyes. He winced. “That… fuck I am _really_ sorry.”

“The point,” said Clover, clearing his throat, “is that training is difficult, but in time, hopefully in a _short_ time, you’ll adjust and be the strong hunters I know you can be.” He put his hands on his hips and beamed.

“So is this our life now?” asked Nora, flopping down next to Blake. “Are we just gonna train and go on missions and do relief work for Mantle _all the time_?”

Clover shook his head. “Not at all. Down time is heavily encouraged and days off are enforced. Our work is hard and it’s important we find ways to relax. Whether that’s reading, or sleeping, or going out with friends, or taking part in Atlas and Mantle’s cultures – whatever takes the edge off, really.”

“What about you guys?” asked Ruby. “What do you do to take the edge off?”

Harriet grinned and hopped forward, jumping off the block. “Well, I go running or boxing, and sometimes I join local marathons and races.” She jerked a thumb toward Vine. “Vine here does rooftop and balcony gardening, plus photography. And I think she—”

“I think it’s ‘he’ now,” said Vine, conversationally.

“Sweet,” said Harriet, “I think he also teaches yoga and meditation techniques?” She raised an eyebrow at Vine, who nodded. “Right. Elm builds shit. Lots of woodwork and metal work. She’s _awesome_ with a saw.” Harriet looked at Marrow. “I don’t know what you do.”

Marrow pouted and folded his arms over his chest. “I read,” he said, sounding put-out. “I visit the Mantle library a lot and do a lot of volunteer work with their youth programs, plus I volunteer at soup kitchens. But mostly, I read.”

“Wow you’re like, really boring,” said Harriet with a laugh.

“I am not!” protested Marrow, tail standing straight up.

“You read?” asked Blake, voice quiet as she curled around her water bottle. Marrow nodded. Blake’s ears swivelled. “Maybe we could talk about it sometime. I’ve read a lot of books. We might have some in common.”

Marrow perked, tail wagging. “Yeah! That sounds great. I’ll look forward to it.” Blake smiled.

“What about Clover?” asked Jaune. “What does he do in his downtime?”

Clover winced. “That’s not—”

“Clover?” Harriet was grinning. “Clover _fucks._ ”

Ruby blinked a few times. She couldn’t have heard that right. She couldn’t have _possibly_ —

“I’m sorry,” said Weiss, sounding as confused as Ruby felt. “ _What?_ ”

Clover turned red. Harriet cackled.

“Now, wait a second,” started Clover, but Harriet barrelled ahead.

“Oh yeah. He’s a regular Casanova, this one.” Harriet jerked a thumb at him. “Dude patrols bars on his nights off, cruising for _dick_. Or ass, I guess.” She snickered. “He’s slept with every Specialist that’ll have him and half the guys in Atlas that are willing. I heard he’s moving around in Mantle bars, right now, until the heat up here dies down.”

Everyone stared as Clover scrubbed one hand down his face, which was redder than Ruby’s cape.

“ _Harriet_ ,” he hissed.

Harriet was still grinning. “Am I wrong?”

Clover sighed. “Technically no,” he muttered. “But I would _not_ have phrased in that way in front of all of them.”

Harriet shrugged. “Why not? They’re all adults.”

Ruby raised her hand from where she laid. “I’m not. I’m seventeen.”

Harriet shrugged again. “Adult in Atlas is sixteen, kiddo. You’re legal, here.”

Ruby sat up. “Does that mean I can drink?”

“No,” said her entire team, voices overlapping.

Ruby winced. “Yeah. Bad joke.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

Yang snorted. “You think?” Then, “And you’re kind of disgusting, Clover. Seriously, what kind of guy spends his weekends sleeping with anonymous guys? You sound like a slimeball.”

“One with commitment issues and an unbalanced relationship with his father figure,” said Vine, rubbing Ren’s back as he shuffled into the area and crumpled against a block.

“Hey, I get along great with my dad,” said Clover, frowning.

“Not who I meant, but all right,” said Vine.

Clover winced. “Let’s _not_ with that train of thought.”

“Please,” said Ruby, covering her eyes. “I don’t need to think about people having sex. Especially not people who keep hitting on my uncle.”

A long pause. Harriet broke into hysterical laughter.

“You think _Clover_ is hitting on _Qrow_? Fuck kid, your uncle could do _way_ better than Mr. Popular over here.”

“I can hear you!” protested Clover. Ruby peered through her fingers enough to see Clover’s face turning red again. “And I’m not flirting with him. I just look up to him, that’s all. He’s a great huntsman.”

“Hero worship,” said Harriet. “Got it.”

“Don’t make me put you on latrine duty, Bree.” Clover stabbed a finger at her.

Harriet grinned. “Buddy we all know full fucking well you aren’t our boss. The only person that could put me on latrine duty is _Ironwood himself._ ”

“Well, if you deserved it, I might be so inclined.” General Ironwood’s voice came from near the door. Everyone froze, then looked over as he and Uncle Qrow strode into the training room.

Uncle Qrow looked better than he had since… well, since _ever_. He looked more and more like a proper, happy person with every passing day, and Ruby eagerly awaited to see the final image. Sure, she understood that it would always be work, but his sobriety, and happiness, was something of a bright spot in the darkness that seemed to surround Ruby, most days.

Though that was probably just her going through her ‘emo phase’. The one Yang used to joke about because of her clothing choices and love of black and dark colours.

“General,” said Clover, snapping to attention. “What can I do for you, sir?”

General Ironwood smiled. “At ease, Clover, please. I just wanted to check in and see how everyone is doing.”

“Still puking,” said Nora, giving a thumb’s up.

“Still breathing,” replied Jaune, leaning against her and closing his eyes. “School starts way too early in this kingdom.”

“Agreed,” said General Ironwood with a little smile. “Unfortunately, even I don’t have the jurisdiction to change that.”

“Boo,” said Nora, wrapping an arm around Jaune.

“So, what’re we talking about?” asked Uncle Qrow, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Clover being a huge slut,” said Nora, cheerfully. Clover slapped himself in the face. Uncle Qrow laughed. Ruby groaned and flopped back onto the floor. She was _so_ not paid enough for this.

“Yeah? Now _that_ sounds like a fun topic,” said Uncle Qrow, still chuckling. “So, that’s your dirty little secret?” A hum. “Could be worse, but a fun one to have. In fact—”

“Uncle Qrow, please stop talking,” said Ruby, putting her hands over her face. Whatever he was about to say, she didn’t want to know. She desperately did _not_ want to know. “Please.”

“Sorry, kid,” said Uncle Qrow, and she could hear the wince.

General Ironwood cleared his throat. She knew it was him because it sounded like him. Which was a little strange. Why did people sound like themselves when making throat noises?

Ruby needed lunch. She was starting to lose it.

“I understand most of you have missions which will be starting tonight,” said General Ironwood. Ruby moved her hands and lifted her head enough to see General Ironwood clasp his hands behind his back. “I know you’ll do Atlas proud and do the best you can, and I wanted to wish you all luck.”

Weiss nodded, sharp. “Thank you, General. I appreciate that.” Ruby raised an eyebrow. What was that about? Was Weiss just being weird because she was Atlesian and had grown up being all military?

“Ah, Miss Schnee,” General Ironwood paused, “Weiss.” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering what you plan to do, seeing as you don’t currently have an up-to-date hunting uniform.”

Weiss shrugged. “I was just going to layer some Specialist things over my old outfit. At least until I have a new one.”

General Ironwood nodded. “All right, that sounds reasonable. If you need any help with uniform design, don’t hesitate to ask for help. I’m well versed in redesigning uniforms for adaptive purposes.”

“Thank you, I’ll remember that,” said Weiss with a nod.

“I won’t get in your way by overstaying my welcome,” said General Ironwood. “I’ve got work to do and I imagine all of you do, as well. Good day to you all.” With a last nod, he turned and strode out of the room, pausing only to say, “You’re all doing fantastically. Thank you for all your help.”

Ruby perked at that, sitting up as the door slid shut. She looked to Uncle Qrow, who smiled at her.

“All right!” said Clover, voice too bright and cheerful. “Who’s ready for some cooldown stretches?”

Ruby and her team groaned. Uncle Qrow laughed.

At least it wasn’t more wind sprints.

* * *

Blake adjusted her gloves and glanced up at Marrow, who watched Mantle expand around them as the ship lowered to one of the landing platforms around the edges of the lower city.

“So, what exactly are we doing, again?” asked Blake. She’d only been half listening when Marrow explained this mission to her, saying that she was the only person who could help him with this. Instead, she’d been thinking about everything with Weiss and Yang. Weiss, who was on the edge of a second, worse, breakdown. Yang, who was snappish and snarling whenever she was asked about something.

Was there anyway to fix this? To talk about it? Blake didn’t know. She was just tired. So very tired.

Marrow smiled at her. “There’s been a lot of unrest in Mantle recently. We’re going to be talking to civilians to see where the worst of the unrest is and what we can do to fix it.” He tugged at his sleeves, adjusted his hair, and flashed a smile at Blake. “Our goal today is to gather information. The more we know about what’s actually going on in Mantle, the more we can work toward helping everyone.”

Blake nodded. “Okay. Lead the way.”

The two left the ship and walked through the streets of Mantle, and it didn’t take long for Blake to see exactly what Mantle thought of Specialists. The city of Mantle was cloaked in darkness, despite the early evening hours. The streetlamps flickered and glowed with yellow-white light that were far warmer than the blue-white lights that littered Atlas’ streets. The lights illuminated garbage in the streets, broken drone pieces scattered in the corners, and people that eyed Blake and Marrow with a mix of disdain, fear, and contempt.

She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to it, when they were running around down here that first night, but now, walking around, without the military chasing them, she could feel the despair and smell the fear that permeated from the buildings themselves.

She’d seen enough, before, to know it was awful, but that awfulness spread a lot further, deeper, than she’d first suspected.

“This is horrible,” said Blake, keeping her voice low. “How can General Ironwood allow this to happen?”

“He doesn’t control the whole kingdom, as much as people think he does,” said Marrow, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Plus, he grew up in Atlas, like so many others. That makes him ignorant to the world beneath.” Marrow cast a glance to Blake. “Just because Atlas hasn’t always floated above Mantle doesn’t mean their people haven’t always thought that way.” He huffed. “And there’s never really been anyone willing to tell the General exactly what life in Mantle is like.” He shrugged. “People are scared of him.”

Blake’s ears swivelled back and she frowned, fighting the urge to hug herself as she watched a handful of children go running back, all in tattered coats and jackets.

“That’s not an excuse,” said Blake.

“No,” agreed Marrow, “it’s not.” The taste of rain was thick in the air and Blake’s hair was already getting frizzy from the humidity. She smoothed it down with one hand. “He’s a good man. He’s just…”

“Blind,” said Blake, drily. “To corruption, to weakness, to problems he doesn’t deem important.” Her ears flattened against her head and she looked to the group of gentlemen who were grouped together on a set of crumbling stairs leading into what was probably an apartment building. They watched Marrow and Blake with narrowed eyes and hushed whispers. Blake lifted one ear.

Something about dirty faunus, anger toward the military, and a bunch of other shit she didn’t care to listen to.

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” said Marrow, smiling at her. “To be his eyes and ears, show him the blind spots, and help him fix them.”

Blake stared at him a moment, then shook her head. “You’re so like Ruby it hurts.”

Marrow’s tail wagged. “Hey, considering how great she seems, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He looked to the men who were watching them and frowned. “Evening, gentlemen,” he called, lifting his voice. “Can we help you?”

One of the men grinned. “Yeah, buddy, you can tell us when the hell Atlas decided it was okay to let _mutts_ into their bullshit army.”

Blake frowned. Marrow kept smiling, though it turned sharp and his tail fell still.

“If the army’s bullshit, it shouldn’t matter if they’re letting faunus in,” said Marrow, shrugging. He folded his arms over his chest and Blake fought the urge to do the same.

A scoff. “So what are Atlas’ _finest_ doing down here anyway?” asked a different man.

“We’re gathering information about the state of Mantle,” said Marrow. “Our hope is to improve security as well as the quality of life for everyone in the city.” He raised an eyebrow. “Anything you’d be willing to tell us?”

The men all looked at one another. Some of them shrugged, some of them snorted, and one of them scoffed. Blake watched them with narrowed eyed as some of them shifted toward one another. They were tensing, preparing for a fight. How the hell were they supposed to handle this? She was fairly certain fighting a bunch of Mantle civilians wasn’t allowed, and as much as she was fine with breaking rules for a reason, this wasn’t a good reason.

There was no outcome in which her and Marrow fighting civilians in Mantle didn’t end badly for the two of them.

“And what do you think you can do?” asked a man, jutting out his chin. “Huh? You’re just a dog of the military.” He stood, swaggering down each step and across the street toward them. Some of the men followed. Some of them didn’t. Blake reached for Gambol Shroud, but Marrow raised his hand in front of her and shook his head, never looking away from the men.

“On my own? Not much,” said Marrow. “That’s why we’re just here to talk with citizens, see what’s going on. It’s by taking it back to Atlas that we can start inspiring change.”

“Inspiring change?” echoed one of the men. He scoffed. “Man, you really are just the military’s _bitch_ aren’t you?” He pushed ahead of the others and got within arm’s reach of Marrow. “What, you gonna roll over and beg for us next?”

Marrow raised an eyebrow. “You know, hate crimes are illegal in this kingdom.” His smile turned razor sharp. A shadow passed over his face and his voice dipped low. “As much as it doesn’t seem like it, at times.” He lifted his chin. “If you don’t want to answer my questions, we’ll just be on our way.”

Blake took a step back, glancing at the various men. Could they take them all? Would they just run? Would Marrow use his semblance to get out of this? She didn’t know. Her heart pounded in her chest and in her ears, all four of them. Everything was tight and growing tighter.

Grimm were easier.

Much easier.

The man’s gaze flicked up and down Marrow. He cast a glance over his shoulder and shrugged at his buddies. They shrugged in response. The man looked back at Marrow.

“Nah, we don’t. Push off, _dog_.” The man jutted his chin out.

Marrow nodded. “Have a nice day,” he said, falsely cheerful as he grabbed Blake’s wrist and hauled them both away from the men. They laughed and hooted, their voices following Blake as the two turned a corner away from the men.

Blake shuddered and yanked her hand back from Marrow, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing to try and bring warmth back into her bones.

“That… was _awful_.” She gave another shudder, ears twisting and flattening against her head. “Is it always like that?” Stupid question. Of course it was. She’d walked the streets of many cities without her bow. Seen it all firsthand, years prior. Saw or heard about the rest of it.

“Usually it’s worse,” said Marrow, folding his arms behind his head. “Take a minute; try and relax. We’ve got a long way to go.”

Blake frowned and lifted her chin. “I can _handle_ this. I was part of the White Fang for years. I understand what we’re up against.”

Marrow unfolded his arms and held his hands at shoulder height. “Woah, woah, hey. Not saying you can’t. But it’s good to take a minute and gather yourself. Hey, I’ve been dealing with it all my life, too, and I still need to take time between fights.” He sighed. “It’s a lot, living here. I’m not saying you’re not tough enough, Blake, only that we shouldn’t have to be.”

Blake stared at him for a long moment, gaze darting between the sad sag of his tail, to the gloomy look on his face, to the droop of his shoulders. She sighed and let herself sag with her feelings.

“All right. Where to next?” she asked. Marrow offered her a little smile and led her into the streets of Mantle. Back to work.

* * *

It was dawn, or close enough, anyway. There was no sunrise or sunset in this place, with the only weather changes being a shift from cloudy to cloudy with a side of lightning and maybe some acid rain if the clouds were feeling feisty.

Emerald and Mercury had slept in the same room since the night they’d talked about escaping together. This morning, if it _was_ morning, all Emerald really had to go off now was her Scroll, and that wasn’t accurate at the best of times in this place, was finally the morning where it all came together.

Step one: pack things. That was already handled. She and Mercury only owned enough shit to fit in a pair of rucksacks, tied shut by their drawstrings.

Step two: sneak out of the castle.

Step three: steal a ship and get the fuck out of here.

Those two steps would be harder, but they’d try. Fuck, they’d try.

“You ready?” asked Mercury, rolling down one of his pant legs, his gaze on the world beyond the window. There were fewer Grimm than usual out there. But Emerald had spent enough nights staring out that window to know all the Grimm had been marching, unflinching, silent, toward the shores of Remnant’s oceans. Armies that didn’t breathe were something out of nightmares.

Nightmares Emerald had been living for well over a year, at this point.

“Yeah,” said Emerald, slinging her bag over her shoulders. “Ready.” She glanced out just in time to see a Deathstalker crawl up out of the pools of black. Shuddered. She wouldn’t miss this place. “Let’s go.”

Together, almost shoulder to shoulder, the two crept through the castle, trying to find where the damn front door was. This place didn’t quite rearrange itself when no one was looking, but without lights and full of Grimm, it was nigh impossible to keep track of the dozens of hallways, rooms, and doors that curved back on one another without rhyme or reason.

Emerald would take getting lost a dozen times if they didn’t have to deal with Grimm. Oracles were probably the worst thing they could come across. Salem had a psychic line to them no matter where she was in Remnant.

“Can you see?” hissed Mercury, voice low and gravelly as they crept together through the dark hallways.

Emerald squinted. Shapes, shadows, doors. Enough to move. Like nighttime in the rest of Remnant, rather than the perma-dark of Salem’s terror-filled funhouse.

“Yeah, enough,” whispered Emerald. She reached back and took one of his hands in her own, leading him through the castle as best she could. Down the spiralling staircases that let off into tiny, dark corners, through the narrow, tall hallways that howled with the winds that blew in through unseen windows.

“How the hell can you see in this place?” Mercury’s voice seemed far away and in her ear at the same time. Like there were two of him. She shivered at the idea. A second Mercury would mean a shapeshifting Grimm. With everything else in this place, it wouldn’t surprise her. But if Salem had shapeshifting Grimm, she would have already won.

“Good eyes, I guess.” Emerald kept her voice low. If her internal map was at all accurate, they were somewhere on the main level of the place. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure they were in the middle. And that meant the winds she was hearing were actually howls.

_Fuck._

Everything pressed inward. Walls, floors, ceiling. Lights that hadn’t been lit since she’d been here creaked overhead. The floors squeaked and screamed with every step. Faintly, the smell of ozone and tar oozed through the walls and smothered all other scents, until Emerald wanted to pinch her nose. But she needed a free hand to grope at the walls, find the door handles, and try not to trip over everything beyond the tiny scope of her vision.

The two turned a corner and a flash of light had Emerald stumbling, crying out, and throwing a hand up over her face. Mercury swore. She heard him hit the ground.

“The hell are you two doing up?” Hazel’s voice, low and reverberating through the castle as if he and it were one and the same.

Emerald froze. Fists up and ready to fight, bag burning on her back with the proof of her betrayal.

They couldn’t take Hazel.

Not in their wildest dreams.

“Uh—” Emerald didn’t know where to start or where to go. Fuck. Could she outrun him?

No. He knew the castle better than both of them. Could probably run it blind if he needed to.

Emerald jerked as Mercury grabbed her by the wrist, yanked her back a couple steps, and shoved himself in front of her. He squared up, flipped his hair from his face, and raised his fists.

“We were just leaving,” said Mercury, lifting his chin. “Mind getting out of our way?” Hazel’s eyes narrowed. He rolled his shoulders. Mercury took half a step back toward Emerald. “Go,” he said, out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ll hold him off.”

“Mercury…” Emerald hesitated. Her semblance tickled at the side of her mind, Hazel’s fears and hopes dripping like water off an icicle down her spine. “You can’t take him.”

“Neither can you,” said Mercury. “But at least you can get out.” She heard what he didn’t say. _You don’t have to die here._

“Neither of you has to fight me,” said Hazel, raising his hands. He didn’t step forward. He was far enough away that Mercury could get a shot off or Emerald could reach into his mind before he could reach them.

Mercury snorted. “What? We just have to stay here and ruin our lives some more?”

Emerald put a hand on Mercury’s shoulder. “Please,” she said, to Hazel. “We’re tired, Hazel. We’re not doing anything here. And…” She stopped, trying to find the words. “Cinder’s gone. Whatever reasons we had for starting this are too.” She looked away. “If the world is ending, then let me watch it end from the outside.” She looked up at Hazel. “I don’t want to die here. In the darkness. Waiting for the end.” She swallowed. “Can’t you understand that?”

Hazel stared at them both. Long enough that Emerald feared he’d somehow called Grimm to the three of them. Long enough that she found herself wanting to break his gaze and make a run for a ship.

“Well, old man? What’s your answer?” Mercury shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Come on, already!”

Emerald winced.

“There’s a few things I need to do first,” said Hazel. “And I need to pack. Then, we can go.”

Emerald blinked. “We?”

“What?” asked Mercury, jaw dropping open. “What do you mean ‘we’? You’re not coming with us. We’re not going out there for Salem and we’re not coming back. Don’t you get that?” He threw his arms wide, voice echoing off the walls. Emerald winced again. “You’re not following us around to drag us back.”

“No, I’m not.” Hazel stepped forward. Mercury squared up and lifted his fists. Hazel stopped just outside of Mercury’s range and folded his massive arms over his chest. “You’re right. We’re not needed anymore. You kids never should have been brought into this.” He looked to Emerald and met her gaze. For the second time since she’d met Hazel, she saw the man behind the monster. A tenderness that betrayed his heart, beneath the armour he used to fight.

Was it a sign of the man he’d been, before he’d lost everything and turned to Salem? It must have been.

“It was revenge that drew me to Salem. Revenge against Ozpin, against the hunters, against the world that dared to let my sister die.” Hazel shook his head. “But I’ve realized something, in these past few months.”

Mercury snorted. “What? Revenge is wrong? You’re better than that?”

Hazel huffed. “Hardly. I’ve realized that what I’d lost could be mended in two ways. Revenge,” said Hazel, and he hesitated, looking at them both.

And just like that, Emerald understood. “Or us,” she said, voice soft and low with wonder.

“What? Are we your replacements for your sister?” Mercury folded his arms and scowled. “I’m not your sister, _pal._ ”

Hazel sighed. “No, you’re not. But you kids…” He hesitated, frowning. He kept hesitating. Enough moments of it that Emerald and Mercury could have taken him, if they wanted. Could have knocked him down and bolted. Maybe even made it to a ship. “Almost losing you,” and he was looking at Emerald, now, “in Haven, reminded me that I’m more than just a monster. That I can heal, as well as destroy.” He shook his head. “I haven’t felt that way since Gretchen died.”

Emerald swallowed. “You felt like a person again.” She knew that feeling. She’d felt it, herself. When she’d helped patch up Mercury’s prosthetics on the field, after Beacon, when Cinder was fallen. When she stole binders and hunted down the right t-shots to give to Mercury. When they’d travelled on the road to Haven with Hazel, and he’d left them alone for days at a time while he dealt with Taurus. They’d made food, swapped bad jokes, people watched.

Being away from Cinder had restored something in Emerald she hadn’t realized she’d lost. Not until she’d heard that Cinder was alive. Not until she’d argued with Tyrian about her. Not until Mercury had held her while she screamed and ranted and threw things and tore at herself as she fought the confusion and anger and fear that came from thinking about Cinder.

Not until Mercury had dabbed at her self-inflicted wounds with alcohol wipes and cotton pads, muttering to her while he cleaned her nails and her scraped raw skin. And then he’d smiled at her, told her he was there for her, that they didn’t need Cinder because he’d murder anyone who touched her. Who hurt her.

And he’d wiped at her tears and told her that she was the brains, the face, and he was the muscle. And that was all they needed.

Did he remember that night? Not all that long ago?

Emerald doubted she’d ever forget it.

“I did,” said Hazel, nodding. “I do.” He looked at Mercury. “You don’t want to trust me, then don’t. You don’t want me to come with you? I won’t.”

Mercury narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

Hazel raised both eyebrows. “Either of you know how to fly an airship? Navigate?” He gave Mercury a flat look. “Or get the ship away from the Grimm that guard it?”

“You could be lying,” said Mercury, glancing up and down at him. “Making shit up. Trying to keep an eye on us.”

“So kill me,” said Hazel, spreading his arms. “I’m not interested in fighting you, anymore. And I don’t kill kids.” Emerald raised an eyebrow at that. Hadn’t he tried to murder the kid Ozpin was in? But then, that probably didn’t count, did it?

Mercury shouldered passed him. “I’m not interested in getting anymore blood on my heads. Especially not blood as black as yours.” He folded his arms. “We going, or what?”

Hazel chuckled. “Gimme fifteen minutes. I need to pack, take care of a few things.”

“What, there some secret monster in the dungeons that we don’t know about?” Mercury raised both eyebrows.

Hazel shook his head. “Something like that,” he agreed. “Meet me outside. Don’t touch a ship. Grimm will attack you.” With that, he headed down the hall and disappeared around a corner Emerald hadn’t seen. Emerald sighed and looked to Mercury, feeling tension she hadn’t noticed bleed out of her body.

“You trust him?” asked Mercury.

Emerald nudged passed him, grabbed his wrist, and headed for where she presumed the front door was.

“I do,” she said, nodding, though she doubted Mercury could see her. The lights were getting brighter, in the distance. The smell of tar and decay grew stronger, as well, overtaking dust and damp. “He changed, Mercury. After we came back from Haven, he changed.” She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, trying to find the words. “I was unconscious for most of it. How was he, on the way back?”

“Good,” said Mercury. “Weird.” She could hear him frowning. Another turned corner and the purple-red light of the world was oozing toward them through the cracks in the massive door. Cracked, because Salem had slammed it open and shut a few times before she left.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mercury came level with her, shifting so neither arm hurt. She looked over at him, up at him, and raised both eyebrows. He shrugged. His eyes seemed to glint in the low light and Emerald bit the inside of her cheek to keep from staring.

What was _wrong_ with her? Gods, being away from non-murderous guys for so long was destroying her standards. Mercury wasn’t handsome.

… _Well,_ not _that_ handsome.

Stupid.

Emerald cleared her throat, ignoring the heat in her cheeks, and focused on the door as they approached. “How so?”

“He was… nice. Kept checking in on me. Made sure we had plenty of food.” Mercury shook his head. “Was weird. Kept thinking he was just trying to get my guard down so he could steal you and run.” Mercury flashed a crooked smirk at her. “Not like I’m much use, outside of a murder machine, around here. And she’s got plenty of those.”

Emerald frowned. “Why would I—”

“Maidens can only be young women, right?” Mercury raised both eyebrows. “What are you, again?”

Emerald hadn’t considered that. She shuddered. “ _Fuck._ ”

Mercury snorted. “Yeah. My thoughts exactly.”

But then… “Cinder’s trying to get all four.” The name was still hard on her tongue. Like a knife that drove from mouth to chest. “She doesn’t need me.” Saying Salem’s name aloud felt wrong, here. She couldn’t bring herself. Not until they were clear of her domain. Of the Oracles.

The world outside appeared in slices as Mercury pushed open the doors. The red-purple-black of the sky that swirled into the horizon. It seemed to pulsate, like it was alive. The dead plants that kept growing regardless. The pits of tar and black that dripped and oozed and bubbled. The smell of death, decay. The taste of blood and despair.

The fear the crept up her spine and whispered in her ear.

“I always figured you were a backup,” said Mercury, rolling his shoulders and lifting his fists. His head swung back and forth, eyes narrowed as he took in the world around them. “You know, in case Miss Crazy lost her mind and went nuclear or something. Figured you were the only girl she knew, so whatever she had would fire off into you.”

Emerald shuddered. Fuck, if Cinder died and she picked up who knew how many maiden powers, she didn’t know what she’d do. Maybe jump off the nearest cliff. Maybe find a sword to fall on. That was too much responsibility. Too much power.

Too much danger.

She just wanted to disappear into obscurity. Watch the world fall or rise without her to influence it.

“You’re just a bundle of good news today, aren’t you?” muttered Emerald, drawing her weapons. She flicked down the blades and scanned the area. None of the Grimm were watching them, but there were a cluster around the ship closest to them. There were other ships, but they were older, worn, and they might not work when fired up.

Mercury snorted. “Not my job.”

“Whose is it?” asked Emerald, only half joking. Tone dry and bitter. “So, how do we handle this?”

“Carefully.” Both of them jumped at Hazel’s voice as he approached. “Grimm won’t bother us if we don’t give them a reason to. Keep your mind focused on Salem, and on acting in her interests. They’ll sense that.” He hefted a duffel bag over one shoulder and raised an eyebrow at them. “Ready?”

“You all finished your secret shit?” asked Mercury, cocking his head.

Hazel smirked. “You’re ready. Let’s go.” He nudged himself between them and strode off, head held high and no tension in his shoulders. Mercury and Emerald glanced at one another and Emerald shrugged.

She didn’t know what Hazel wanted. Didn’t know if he was telling the truth. But it felt like he was, and their weird aura sensing thing wasn’t giving off any ill intentions.

“You know, if he betrays us, it’ll be easier to run in Vacuo than here,” said Mercury.

Emerald sighed. “Ever the optimist.” But he was right.

She followed Mercury as he followed Hazel.

She didn’t look back.

The image of the castle was burned into her mind forever. She didn’t need a last look.

* * *

Shared dorms. If you’d told Neptune a few days ago that he’d be sharing dorms with _seven other people_ , four of whom weren’t even on his team, he probably would have had a panic attack. Now, he was still tempted, but at least he could quell a lot of those fears with deep breathing and reminding himself that everyone he was sharing a room with knew his biggest secret and not only was fine with him, but three others shared the same identity.

There still wasn’t room for eight beds, though, which led to the next issue.

“I don’t see why sharing is such a big deal,” said Coco, flopping out onto her bed. Velvet sat near her, ears swivelling back and forth as she worked with her camera-weapon-thing. “We share out in the desert all the time. You need someone to watch your back. Literally.”

“Figuratively,” said Fox, from where he was sprawled, eyes closed, on another bed. Sage sat near him, tapping away at his Scroll. Neptune didn’t know what he was doing, but the reversed icons looked like plants, so he could guess.

Coco huffed, tossing her head in that way that meant she was rolling her eyes. It was one of the few things that Neptune had picked up about the mysterious team leader of CFVY. She was a master at being cool and mysterious and alluring. Everything Neptune wanted to be with none of the anxiety and frustration that came with it.

He was only _sort of_ jealous.

“It’s weird,” said Scarlet, from where they were sitting at a desk. “Why don’t we just get rid of the desks and go from there?”

“What about what Team RWBY did?” asked Sun, sitting in the open window. “Bunk beds are cool!”

“No,” said almost everyone at once. Sun drooped, then shrugged, going back to eating his snacks. Neptune gripped his crossed ankles tight enough to hurt. One thing about eight people in one room, and sharing four beds, that wouldn’t leave him alone was just that – he’d never be alone. He _needed_ alone time to recharge. How could he explain that to Team CFVY? How could he find a space to rest? The library was good for a little bit, but he needed a safe cubbyhole to tuck into.

His bed had been that back at Haven. Here? He wouldn’t even have that.

“I think we could fit two more beds,” said Velvet, setting down her weapon and pulling out her Scroll, “if we removed the desks. It’s not like we need them, anyway, right?” She looked at Neptune, who shrugged. He’d like one, but he could make do without. No one else protested. She started drawing, brow furrowed and bunny ears folding down. “Right. Two beds. That would allow some of us to sleep alone. Only two pairs would need to share.” She held out her Scroll to Coco, who hummed. By what Neptune could see, it was floorplans.

Coco nodded. “Right. So who gets the single beds? My instinct is Yatsu and Sage, to start. They’re huge. Sharing with them wouldn’t be fun.”

“Neptune,” said Sun, where he was dangling. “I’ll share with anyone, even sleep on the floor, if it means he gets his own bed. We need him at his best for all the research and he’s gotta have his own space.” Neptune sagged into the bed. He could have kissed Sun, or broken down crying. Some days he couldn’t believe Sun was his best friend and partner.

Couldn’t believe how well Sun knew him.

“I’m good with that,” said Coco. “Who else needs their own bed?”

“Should probably be one of you, since that’s two of my team,” said Sun.

Fox waved them off. “You can take it if you want, Coco, Velvet. I don’t care about sharing. I like having the security.”

“Wouldn’t it be harder for you, because you can’t see the bed?” asked Scarlet.

Fox shrugged. “Oh, it is. But I’ll take it for the comfort. Having someone that close means I can sleep deeper, instead of staying half awake for safety.”

Neptune nodded. That sounded about how Sun functioned, too. He was pretty good about dozing off in a room full of people, but he’d seen Sun awake on the airship more than once when they all should have been asleep. And in the desert, since they’d gotten here.

“I’d rather share, too,” said Coco. “Velvet, you mind sharing?”

Velvet shook her head, cheeks tinging pink. “I’m fine with that.”

“Fox? Who’re you bunking with?” asked Coco.

“Sun,” said Fox. “You can see in the dark, right?”

Sun started. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve got perfect night vision.”

“Awesome,” said Fox, folding his arms behind his head. “That’ll make up for my zero at any time vision. I call dibs on him and his supposedly amazing abs.”

Sun narrowed his eyes, but he was grinning. “Who told you about my abs?” No one said anything, but Yatsuhashi was blushing and wouldn’t look at them, so Neptune could guess.

“Looks like you’re getting your own bed, Scarlet,” said Coco.

Scarlet grinned. “Fucking _sweet._ Let’s get this shit started!” They hopped to their feet and punched a fist into the air.

Everyone split up from there. Sage and Coco went to get the other beds, Sun and a couple others got to work on removing the desks, and Yatsu took Neptune down to the library to get started on research, seeing as eight people moving shit was too many.

“Good luck,” said Yatsu, clapping him on the shoulder as Neptune stepped into the library. High, arched ceilings painted so long ago it was faded and chipping, stained glass that still let in too much heat and not enough sun, bookcases that spiralled high into the air and looked like they hadn’t been touched in years. It smelled musty, moldy, and a lot like dust.

Neptune clapped his hands together and made a note to get allergy meds.

Time to get to work and prove his worth.

He’d uncover something about The Crown yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are deeply appreciated. Thank you very much for reading!


	17. Sins of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something deeply satisfying about accurately predicting characterization before it airs. Just deeply, _deeply_ satisfying.
> 
> Sorry for missing the last update I'm an extremely ill human being. Hope the length and the depth makes up for it. Cheers! This one is going up a day early because I am busy tomorrow and don't want to take my focus away from said busy-ness.
> 
> (Friendly reminder that I adore all characters in RWBY - bar Adam and Jacques - and nothing I am doing is an attack on them but a progression of their current issues.)

_Yang stumbles across the unfamiliar room, grimaces, falls. Figures attack on all sides._

_You don’t move. You can’t._

_So, you watch._

_You watch her fall to the white cloaked figures of Atlas. Blurred to the white cloaked figure of a long dead lover. Of the only person who could ever make you feel human._

_It all blurs. Falls. You are falling._

_You stand in the front yard of a house that hasn’t been your home in years. Taiyang is preparing for winter. He eyes the sunflowers as he prunes them. He is thinking of something._

_You can’t ask what._

_A gentle breeze turns your head. Glynda Goodwitch limps toward him. She is bleeding. She is holding her side._

_He rushes to her as she collapses._

_You watch. A ghost in the mist._

Raven jolted awake and nearly fell out of the tree. She gripped the branch and settled herself, before setting her head in her hands.

It had been years since she’d lost control of this part of her semblance. Longer since she’d lost control of the rest. The taste and smell of her portals – overripe black cherries, closer to rot than not – lingered on her tongue and burned her nose. But there were none open.

These stupid dreams were getting worse. Flashes of the world from the outside, watching as it passed her by. They all told her the same thing: she was supposed to be with them.

But no. Her family was dead. Her old family, the one that could handle themselves, had each other.

She gathered her things and took a breath. Leapt from the tree and transformed on the way down.

She wasn’t going anywhere in particular.

But moving was better than waiting for death.

* * *

Taiyang was pruning his sunflowers, preparing them for winter, when the wind shifted and the smell of blood blindsided him. He jerked, upright in an instant, senses coming to life.

Blood, sweat, and general body odour. He turned, squinted, and saw Glynda limping through the forest toward him.

He ran for her, hurrying, and caught her as she fell. She groaned in his arms, gripping him loosely with limp hands, as he carried her into the house.

He laid her on the couch, Zwei yapping at his heels. The first aid kit was in the kitchen. He kept hurrying, grabbing it with shaking hands before stumbling back to the couch.

“Glynda, what happened?” asked Taiyang. The stench of blood was thick in the air. The wound in her side was gapping, from claws or teeth or both. Too muddled and filthy to see properly. “Gods.”

She coughed, blood freckling her lips. “I’m fine. Just exhaustion and the Grimm. Needed somewhere safe to hide.”

“Your aura is broken,” said Taiyang. He popped the kit open and dug out some sterilized cloth to mop up the wound and heal it.

“Don’t,” said Glynda. She closed her eyes and tilted back her head. “Just needed somewhere to hide where I knew _she_ couldn’t be watching.”

As Taiyang watched, a thin white-gold sheen slid across the surface of her skin, like an aura, but not her own. With wide eyes, he watched as the wound healed itself, not like a healing semblance might, but almost as if the wound itself was _undone._

“How—” he started.

“A gift from Oz, before the Fall,” murmured Glynda. “Just in case.” She coughed. “Sorry about your couch.” And then she was out cold.

Taiyang sat back on the floor and stared for a long time, first at Glynda, then at his hands. Zwei whined and nudged his way into Tai’s lap, but Taiyang didn’t pay him any mind.

What sort of magic caused that kind of healing?

And when had Glynda been gifted it?

Gods, what else had he missed, since he’d run home from the war?

* * *

There was a fight coming. Blake could smell it in the air, feel it by the raised hairs on the back of her neck. From the moment she woke up that morning, there was a fight coming. It hung in the spaces between friends and team members, in the smell of faint smoke and fire, lingering against Yang’s skin, in the tension in Weiss’ shoulders as she slipped around Yang without a word. In the way Ruby watched them all, gaze wide and forlorn.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, except they were doing wall duty today. Which meant dividing up to spend a day walking around in the cold, watching for Grimm while the construction crews of Mantle continued to patch up the broken wall.

Clover gathered them all together in what Blake had been calling the ‘war room’ in her head, but everyone else was calling the ‘meeting room’. Holographic screens glowed along one wall; a wide table big enough for everyone to stand around displayed risen holographic models on its surface – it looked like Mantle, complete with broken wall – and chairs were scattered along one wall of the room, moved from whatever meeting had happened last before their group.

“Good morning, hunters,” said Clover, his voice low and serious. He’d sounded like that since the last training session, and Blake couldn’t blame him. Some of them still couldn’t look him in the eye.

Finding out your boss was a serial Casanova was a _lot_ to take in. Blake still wasn’t certain she had absorbed it.

“Today, we’ll be doing patrols in Mantle. The wall supplies will be moving in and out throughout the next week, but these first few days will be the most dangerous, as we’ll be removing more supplies than we’re bringing in,” said Clover.

Blake frowned and folded her arms. “Why not just delay moving supplies out of Mantle until we have the supplies in Atlas ready to bring down to them?”

“Well,” said Clover, rubbing a hand over his mouth, “partially because we’re having trouble with thievery and sabotage in Mantle, as of late, and thus the longer we leave the supplies, the more likely they’ll be damaged or stolen.” He looked to Blake, and Blake started at how tired his eyes looked. “As well, the supply drop zones for Mantle can’t handle both the truck and the ship at the same time, not even getting into how many ships and trucks it may take.” He scratched his jaw, gaze going back to the table. Blake kept hers on him. “It would take too much manoeuvring and too much security to handle both things at once.”

Blake huffed. “Then we should wait and get that security.” She narrowed her eyes. “ _Or_ wait until the two are closer together. The larger the gap between the two, the harder it will be to convince the people of Mantle that we’re not just stealing from them.”

Clover sighed, and Blake saw his shoulders droop. “Blake, I respect your opinion, but we’ve been over this a few times and there’s simply not a lot of room for change. Please, let’s just get this done.”

“What happened to you? Get turned down, Casanova?” asked Yang, snorting. Blake winced, ears swivelling. Yang had come in last, banging the door and scowling at the stares of the others, and she hadn’t said anything since. Hadn’t said anything this morning, when they were all getting ready together.

Clover bristled. “My personal life is none of your business.” His tone went hard and he stared Yang down across the table. “What Harriet said was inappropriate and I’d be grateful if you’d all forget it.”

Yang huffed. “Not happening.” She rolled her eyes. “Why would I forget that you might just be eyeing Jaune and Ren, wondering if you can get away with seducing them?”

Jaune and Ren stared at each other. Blake’s eyes went wide. Someone gasped.

Clover pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’re children.”

“We’re adults,” said Yang. “Even Ruby is, by Atlas standards.”

Clover shook his head. “I have no interest in any of you.” He planted both hands on the table and stared across it at Yang. “I’m not going to try and seduce _any_ of you. We’re in the middle of a war. I’m more than capable of being professional, and, frankly, I’m getting tired of listening to you belittle everyone around you just because you don’t like not being in charge.”

Yang narrowed her eyes. “Hey—”

“No.” Clover’s voice left no room for argument. “You’re either going to stop insulting me and go on this mission, or you’re going to be benched and we’re going to have a nice, long _talk._ But I’m done, Yang. I’m not doing this. Not today, of all days.”

“What’s today?” asked Ruby, speaking up in the thick, tense silence of the room.

Clover sighed, slumping, what hostility he'd had vanishing instantly. Blake let out a slow breath.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “You have your assignments. Excuse me.” With that, he pushed off the table and left the room, leaving everyone else to stare at each other.

“Well,” said Yang. “That seems overdramatic.”

“Can you just stop for like five minutes?” asked Blake, hugging herself. “Please? It’s exhausting.”

Yang folded her arms and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “You’re siding with them?”

“I’m siding with _peace_ ,” said Blake, unable to keep the frustration from her voice. “Yang, all you’ve done since we got here is insult them, belittle them, and claim you’re better than them.”

“And us,” mumbled Ruby, from across the table. Blake turned her head and met Ruby’s gaze. She held it for a second and then dropped it down to the map of the table. The seven members of Team RRAYNBOW, minus Oscar, were silent for a long second before Ruby spoke again. “You’ve been pretty clear that you think you’re too good to train with us, too.”

“Excuse me?” Yang’s voice rose as she spoke. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re acting like a jerk,” said Nora. “Aren’t you supposed to be the _fun_ one out of your team?” Nora shook her head. “C’mon, all you’ve done since we got to Atlas is pick fights, tell us you’re better than us, and then get offended when we get upset.” Nora put her hands on her hips. “That’s not fun. That’s bitchy.”

“Hey!” protested Yang. “Look I’m _sorry_ that I’m not in the best mood after finding out we might not be able to win this war and killing a man, but I don’t think you guys have to gang up on me.”

“That’s not the point,” said Blake. “We _both_ killed Adam, Yang.” Her eyes burned with tears. “You don’t get to use that as an excuse!” She stepped forward, throwing one hand out to the others. “We did that together! And I get that Adam took your arm, that he hurt you, but you don’t get to claim he only hurt you, and you don’t get to use it as an excuse to act like this.” Blake took a shaky breath. “Not when I’m not doing it. And especially not in front of me.”

Yang narrowed her eyes. “What? So you think because you knew Adam longer he’s not allowed to affect me?”

Blake frowned. “That’s not what I’m saying—”

“No,” said Weiss, stepping up next to Yang and folding her arms. “I think it is. Trauma affects everyone differently, Blake. Not one person in my family reacted to my father’s abuse the same way, and just because you’re handling this better doesn’t mean Yang’s not allowed to hurt.”

Yang nodded to Weiss. “Yeah! What makes you think you get to tell me how to feel?”

“I’m not saying that,” protested Blake, voice rising high and cracking.

“She’s not,” agreed Ruby, circling the table to stand next to Blake. She put a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “You’re allowed to feel what you feel, Yang, but when you take it out on others and _hurt_ people over what you feel, that’s when we have a problem.” Ruby held out a hand. “Why don’t we talk about what you’re feeling? Maybe we can find a solution that doesn’t involve lashing out at others.”

Yang snorted. “So, what, now you’re gonna act like a leader? After I had to deal with everything on my own? Yeah, fat chance of that.” She folded her arms.

Ruby faltered.

“Hey!” protested Nora. She jolted forward. Ren grabbed one arm, Jaune grabbed the other. They only barely managed to stop her. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You were the one who didn’t _deal_ with anything. Ruby went out into the world to try and warn Haven Academy about Cinder; Weiss got dragged home and she _still_ managed to fight—”

Yang cut her off. “And Blake ran, like the scaredy cat she is.” Her head turned from Nora to Blake and she sneered. “I lost my arm. And I still got back up.” She jerked her chin at Blake. “What’s your excuse?”

Blake bristled. Anger and bitterness and resentment welled up in her. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted them to be friends. But they’d never _dealt_ with this. Never talked. And Blake?

Blake saw red.

“My _excuse?”_ Blake’s voice cracked low and she couldn’t bring herself to care. “My excuse is that I had a crazy ex trying to kill you all!” She took a step forward. “And if we’re keeping score? I got back up before you did.” Another step forward. “I went home, and then I got back up. I fought the White Fang in my own backyard.” Another step. “I fought one of my oldest friends who I thought I’d lost for good.” Another step. “I fought a maniac trying to steal me as his fucking _prize_ from a continent away.” One last step and they were inches apart. If Blake folded her arms, like Yang, they’d touch. “I almost died and I kept fighting. I ran to keep people safe, and I kept fighting. And you never tried to see that, did you?” Blake shook her head. Yang narrowed her eyes. “You just twist the story into whatever lets you justify your needs.”

“Hey—” started Yang, eyes red and teeth bared in a snarl. She dropped her arms and shoved Blake back. Blake stumbled. “You can’t talk to me like that!”

“And why not?” yelled Blake, catching herself on the table.

“Because you’re the reason this all happened!” shouted Yang. She lifted her right arm into the air. “And it’s your fault I lost my arm!”

The whole room went silent. Blake blinked. Blinked again. Tried to catch her breath. The world wobbled and blurred as tears choked her throat and eyes.

Yang blinked. Eyes purple. “Shit I didn’t—”

“Fine,” said Blake, stumbling back a few more steps. Hand on her shoulder. Ruby. “You know, that’s the great thing about such a big team, Yang.” Blake wiped at her eyes. Her voice wobbled. Everything _hurt._ “If you don’t like someone, you can find a new partner.”

The words broke at the end and she bolted, faster than fast. Someone yelled after her. Blake couldn’t hear who.

She never should have come back.

* * *

The room was silent for a few seconds after Blake ran. Everyone stared after her.

Ruby was the first to break the silence. “Way to go, Yang. In your quest to never be wrong, you managed to hit the one thing in the whole world that would break Blake.” Ruby crossed the room and patted Yang on the shoulder. “Congratulations. You’re officially RRAYNBOW’s biggest asshole.”

She walked out, and Yang couldn’t turn, couldn’t watch, because Ruby never swore. Never.

And she had.

And Blake had run. Even though she’d promised she wouldn’t.

And it was all Yang’s fault.

“Fuck,” breathed Yang. “What did I do?” Her eyes prickled with tears.

Weiss winced. “I was on your side until that part. But Ruby’s right, Yang. That was bad.” There were tears in her eyes when Yang looked down at her. “And I don’t know how you come back from that.” Weiss hugged herself and walked out.

Nora shook her head, but said nothing as she and Jaune left.

Ren remained.

“You wanna tell me how much of an asshole I am, too?” snapped Yang.

Ren gave her a small, sad smile. “We love you,” he said. “Now stop acting like we don’t.” With that, he turned and left.

And Yang was alone.

* * *

Blake tucked herself in a corner in the depths of the academy, curled into the shadows that were more familiar than the light, some days. She slid to the cold, hard floor, legs pressed to her chest and arms wrapped tight around them. Tears slipped unchecked down her cheeks and she pressed her face into her knees, sniffling.

_It’s your fault I lost my arm!_

The words echoed in her head, slamming against her skull and ricocheting back to pierce the soft parts of her ears and brain. The words she’d thought a thousand times since that awful day in Vale. The words that had beaten against the sides of her head while she waited for Yang’s response to everything she said, in Mistral, on the road to Argus, and beyond.

And she’d been right. This whole time, her hope had been for nothing.

Yang resented her. Maybe hated her.

Blake curled deeper into herself. The pain in her chest exploded, piercing her heart and burning all the way down.

_It’s your fault I lost my arm!_

Blake lifted her hands and clapped them over her ears, first the human ones, then the cat. Neither quieted the voice. She pressed down harder on her ears, trying to force it out.

_Get out. Get out. Get out!_

Tears kept falling. Blake sniffled. Let out a quiet sob.

“Wow, you uh, you look like you’ve had better days.” The dry, low voice of Harriet rasped against her ears. Blake winced and lifted her head just enough to look at her. Harriet raised an eyebrow at her, but it fell just as quick. Concern flickered across her face, drawing it into unfamiliar shapes. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Go away,” mumbled Blake, half into her knees.

“’Scuse me?”

“If you’re just gonna make fun of me.” Blake took a shaky breath, lifting one hand to wipe at her tears. There was no point. She was still crying. “Then go away. I’m not in the mood.”

Harriet sighed and reached up behind herself, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah, okay. I deserve that.” She scooted forward and flopped onto the floor, across from Blake. Legs raised and arms draped over her knees.

Blake tried to scoot away from her, but she was already pressed into the wall.

“Hey, okay. Just… gimme a second to explain, okay?” said Harriet, wrinkling her nose. “And if you still don’t want me here, I’ll go, no questions asked.”

Blake sighed. She didn’t exactly have a choice. “Fine,” she mumbled.

Harriet shrugged. “Look, okay, I’ve been way too hard on all of you.” Blake blinked. _What?_ “I thought I was just hazing all of you, the way I do with Marrow, but Clover’s been on my ass, and I realized he was right.” _What?_ Blake stared, eyes wide, chin resting on her knees. “I’ve been _way_ too hard on you and your team. I’m used to ragging on graduates, but none of you even finished your first year, and it shows.”

Blake frowned, but she didn’t say anything.

“You’re tough. You’ve all been through hell, seen shit we’ve only ever heard of.” Harriet shook her head. “I was treating you the way I treat every other Specialist, but you’re not. You’re young, you’re traumatized, and nah, that doesn’t mean you’re not strong, but it does mean you don’t have the same, I dunno, base? For this shit?” Harriet shrugged. “And I acted like you did.”

Blake blinked. Stared. Frowned? She wasn’t sure what to do. Her tears had stopped, more out of shock than anything else. So Clover had talked to Harriet and now she realized she was pushing them too hard? What? Was any of this real? Had she knocked herself out in her tear-induced stumbling?

She had to.

This was too damn weird.

“So, yeah, I’m sorry. I was too hard on you. I should have been more aware.” Harriet spread her hands. “There you have it.”

Blake kept staring.

Harriet coughed and rubbed the back of her neck. “You could say something, you know. Kinda hanging here.”

Blake shook her head and dropped her gaze to her white-knuckled hands. “What do I even _say_ to that?” She could have laughed. Might have, if she didn’t think she’d start hysterically crying, instead. “You’ve acted like a jerk since we got here, but now you’re trying to make up for it?” Blake swiped at her eyes as more tears gathered, the shock apparently over. “I don’t know what I believe, right now, Harriet. I just had my partner tell me I’m a horrible person. Nothing else really matters.”

Harriet made a quiet noise. “This about her arm?” Blake started. “Yeah, I figured. See, she didn’t have the arm in the tournament, so we all figure she got it in the Fall. Coupled with the fact that it was Atlas tech – _experimental_ Atlas tech, at that – it had to be sent by the General.”

Blake lifted her gaze and stared at Harriet, jaw dropping open.

“What? I can do math,” said Harriet. “Better than Clover, anyway.” She shrugged. “Look, whatever happened in the Fall, unless you _literally cut off her arm_ , it’s not your fault.”

“My crazy ex-boyfriend did it specifically to hurt me,” said Blake, because she had nothing to lose.

Harriet’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, _fuck_. That’s a whole lot of bullshit, right there.” Harriet tilted her head back and it thunked against the wall. “Shit. I can’t imagine how shitty that was. How that feels. Never really had an ex willing to murder. Steal my shit, yeah, but not murder.” She blew out a breath and her bangs wiggled with the air. “Still not your fault, though.”

Blake let out a sharp laugh. “And why not? If I’d never gone to Beacon, if I’d never met her, if I’d never—” She stopped, biting her tongue to keep from saying too much. “The only reason he ever knew Yang was because of me.” She spoke slowly, mostly into her knees.

“You give yourself _way_ too much credit, kid,” said Harriet, snorting. “You think you could have stopped some crazed lunatic from hurting your partner? From chasing you? He was going to follow you no matter what.” Harriet waved a hand. “You can’t control him. And as for the firecracker? Fuck, if _anyone_ can control that woman, I will buy them fucking dinner. She’s every bit her father’s kid, I’ll tell you that.”

Blake wrinkled her brow. “You know Mr. Xiao Long?” She wasn’t sure if she should call him Taiyang or not. She’d never met him. She wished she had.

“Sorta,” said Harriet. “He gave a guest lecture when I was a student. Mopped the _floor_ with the general.” She chuckled. “And a ton of the fucking robots.” Harriet clicked her tongue and Blake tried to imagine it, the man she’d seen in pictures taking on Atlas’ finest. She couldn’t. She sort of assumed, after finding out who Yang’s mother was, that _she_ was where Yang got her fighting prowess. That and her uncle.

“I can’t imagine,” murmured Blake.

Harriet shrugged. “People can surprise you, y’know?” She blew at her bangs again. “The point, I guess, that I’m trying to make, is that you can’t control other people, only yourself. And if Yang’s saying shit like that to you? Then tell her to fucking stop. Like Clover did with me.” Harriet lifted one shoulder. “Worst she can do is not, right?”

Blake nodded. “Why are you so good at this?” If she’d had to rank the Ace-Ops, before now, in order of best to worst assumed emotional support, she’d have put Vine at the top and Harriet at the bottom.

Harriet’s posture changed when Blake spoke. A shadow passed over her face and her shoulders sagged. As if a great weight bore down on her.

“You’re not the first one I’ve talked off the ledge,” she murmured. “Hell, I’ve done it once a year since I joined.” She cleared her throat and got to her feet. “Hey, if you’re doing better, I gotta go. I’m only here because of said bullshit.”

What? Who was she here to talk to? What did she mean? Blake hadn’t been on a literal ledge, or even the metaphorical one. Was this person the same way, or worse off than her?

Nothing made sense.

But remembering Clover, earlier, put a sinking feeling in her stomach.

“Okay,” said Blake, getting to her feet. “Thank you.”

Harriet gave her a peace sign next to one eye. “’Course. Keep your chin up, kid. You’re badass. Own it.” With that, she was gone, jogging off down the hall before breaking into a run. Blake watched her go. Then, with a sigh, she headed back to the dorms to find a place to nap.

She’d deal with everything later. She was _tired._

* * *

Sometime after midnight, when the rest of her team was asleep, Weiss slipped out of bed on silent feet, scooped up her things, and tiptoed out of the room, leaving Ruby and Blake, and Yang’s empty bed, behind. She left Myrtlenaster on the desk, knowing it would only slow her down and make far too much noise. Ruby’s quiet snoring masked what little noise she made, and when the door slipped shut behind her, Weiss breathed a sigh of relief.

She moved quickly, pulling a sweater, then a coat atop her pyjamas, tying back her hair, which was only just long enough to still put up, and slipping on socks before shoving her feet into her boots. Hat, gloves, and she was off, bundled up for the cold Atlesian night and ready for her pilgrimage.

Her target? The Schnee manor.

She moved quietly, quickly, all sorts of other ‘q’ words. Anxiety brewing in her stomach and tugging hard at her chest as she slipped down the hallway and down the stairs. Everything was eerie and quiet, hushed in the darkness of the night. Faintly, she could hear snoring, murmurs, maybe even people moving about, beyond the doors on the various levels of the dorms.

Before long, she was outside. She pulled up short when she saw Flynt Coal leaning against a tree, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingertips.

“Hey, Schnee,” said Flynt, without looking at her.

Weiss wrinkled her nose. She must have been in his periphery. “You know, those things can kill you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, pretty sure this world will kill me before they can.” He put out the cigarette against the sole of his shoe and tucked what was left into his pocket. “Besides, needed to do _something_ to deal with the weight of the world.” He lifted his chin. “What brings you out here, so late?”

Weiss swallowed. “Just… going for a walk.”

Flynt raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Funky outfit for going walking. ‘Specially since you’re from ‘round these parts.”

Weiss sighed. “How about you pretend I’m not lying and let me go and I pretend you’re not smoking on school grounds?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, s’cool, s’cool. Not gonna nark on you just…” He hesitated. “I worry about you. All of you. I dunno what’s going on, I don’t think any one does outside of your group, but damn if I don’t worry.” He shook his head. “Whatever you’re doing, be safe about it, all right? And if you can’t call your team, call me. Promise I won’t ask too many questions.” He winked and tipped his hat at her.

Weiss smiled, perhaps for the first time all day. “Thank you, Flynt. I really appreciate that.”

“Also your new hair? Bad _ass_ , girl. Damn if you don’t look good with a bob.” He grinned at her. “Maybe think of going even shorter, yeah? Bet you’d look wicked with an undercut.”

Weiss flushed and tugged at her hair. “ _Thank you_ , Flynt.”

He waved her on. “Good luck, Weiss.”

She nodded and slipped passed him, chest a little lighter as she started the trek to her childhood home.

She couldn’t take a cab, or a vehicle of any sort. It would be too obvious, coming up on the building. Nor could she just waltz all the way there, it would take far too long. Instead, Weiss opted for a more… _Schnee_ approach, and summoned a Boarbatusk to carry her to the manor.

They moved through the side roads and into the shadows of Atlas. There were no fields in Atlas, no empty expanses of space bar the land around the manor. Even then, it wasn’t far from the other homes that surrounded it on three sides. There was no room in this city. Not for expansion, and not for land as a point of pride. The only reason the manor had the space it did was because it was on the edge of Atlas. If you took a short walk out a back window, you’d fall off the city.

Weiss had debated it. More than once.

But that would be letting her father win.

As the manor came into view, Weiss found herself trembling. She pulled the summon to a stop and let it fade from beneath her. She stepped down, landing silently in the snow, and crept toward the manor. A thief in the night, swaddled in pale grey and white.

Was she even allowed here anymore? After everything? She doubted it. Her father was in control. Her mother was drowning herself in hard liquor, most likely. Not that she had any power in her life, anymore.

With her heart in her throat, Weiss used her glyphs to climb up to the upper storey windows, lips pressed together and entire body tense with every tiny motion around her.

She slipped the window open, balancing on her glyph while she clambered up into the manor. So long as Father hadn’t changed anything, there were no cameras on this window, and the security system had never worked on the upper storey windows. What was the point? Most people couldn’t climb into them, and perimeter security should have stopped anyone before this point.

It was how Winter had slipped out, over and over again, to do whatever it was she’d done when she hadn’t been home. That was, until she’d moved into the dorms and never gone back to the house.

As much as it stung, Weiss understood. She’d vowed to never return, and if not for her anxiety and guilt, she wouldn’t have. But she couldn’t leave Mom and Whitley alone, especially not after what Father had said on the tarmac. The thought of him hurting Whitley, striking him the way he’d struck her, made her stomach turn.

Inside, the manor was dark and silent, the various wall sconces glowing faintly in the gloom. It smelled of floor polish, of vanilla incense, and of despair and fear. The thick, all-encompassing smell gagged her as she closed the window.

Runners stretched up and down the hallways, pockmarked by vases, busts, and the occasional painting. Most of the portraits were gone, bar the singular family portrait painted while Winter was in Atlas Academy, and one or two of Whitley. There were more portraits of Father, none of Mom, and one of her grandfather.

Weiss grimaced. There were a few words she wanted to use, but the manor was distressing enough without her adding to it.

She moved on silent feet down the halls, aiming for her mother’s private chambers. They overlooked the gardens, which should have been iced over this time of year, though Weiss doubted Father would allow something like _nature_ to interfere with his preferred aesthetic.

As Weiss rounded a corner into the sleeping wing of the manor, she froze. A door swung inward, disappearing into a room, and low light flooded the open space. She took a step back, trying to count doors to understand who was coming out of a room.

She wasn’t prepared to come face to face with her brother.

He stepped out of the room and turned, half crouched, then froze when his gaze met Weiss’. They stared at each other, separated by so much more than the twenty or so feet between them.

Weiss stood, frozen, unsure what to do or say. She’d come looking for both of them, but now that she had Whitley in front of her, she had no idea what to do.

“Whitley…,” she whispered, and in the suffocating silence of the manor, her words no doubt carried to him.

Whitley took one step forward, then another, and as the shadows on his face changed, Weiss gasped. One of his eyes was black and swollen. A bruise across the opposite cheek bloomed around an indented scab the shape of Father’s ring. Sweaty hair clung to his pale skin, and fingerprints bloomed across one arm.

Weiss pressed a hand to her mouth.

Gods, what had Father done to him?

“Weiss.” His voice, his eyes, were flat. Their shine overwhelmed by darkness that swallowed Whitely whole. “You’re back.”

Weiss swallowed. “For a second,” she murmured. “Just… not forever.”

Whitley nodded. “I didn’t suspect that much.” Some of the bite returned to his voice and he lifted his chin. “You’re just like Winter, that way, always running from your problems.”

“I don’t have to put up with Father,” said Weiss. “And neither do you.” She extended a hand to him. “Come with me, Whitley.”

“And what about Mother?” asked Whitley. “The company? If we leave, Father can easily write us out. The company will fall.” Whitley huffed. The gesture made his chest tremble. Something was bruised beneath his shirt. “And unlike you, I can’t just run.”

Weiss opened her mouth, but Whitley wasn’t finished.

“I don’t have a fancy Semblance, or combat training, or an aura to keep me safe.” Whitley balled his hands into fists at his sides. His nails were torn and ragged, blood gathered beneath their too-short, jagged edges. “Or an older sister to ensure my safety.” The last part was a hiss.

“I… you have me,” said Weiss. “I’m here.”

“Now,” replied Whitley. “But you weren’t there before. You left me behind. You left both of us behind, with _him._ ” He jutted his chin down the hall, toward Father’s quarters. His eyes were flat, but they burned. “I wasn’t even part of your plan, even when it would have been so _easy_ ,” another hiss, “to take me with you.”

Weiss swallowed around a lump in her throat. Her heart thudded down in her stomach, splashing acid into her lungs and leaving her chest burning with shame.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Weiss, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “I thought you hated me. I thought you wanted to be like Father.”

Whitley shook his head, breathing hard through his nose. “ _Some_ of us don’t have the option to stand again him. Some of us simply have to bow to his might and pray we don’t get caught underfoot.”

“It seems to be going so well for you.” Weiss flicked her gaze up and down Whitley, tone half frustrated and half horrified.

“Well, he got a lot worse after you left,” said Whitley, flashing her a plastic smile. “And worse, still, when he found out you were _back._ ” The last word was spat.

Weiss cringed. “His reactions aren’t my fault.” She fought the urge to stomp her foot. “But… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Whitley.” She reached out to him. He took a step back.

“And why should I believe you?” asked Whitley, shoulders raising near his ears.

“I came here, tonight, to check on you both,” said Weiss. “I… I’m going to stop Father. I have the power, now, and the friends to help me. We’re going to get the company back.” This time, when she reached out to touch Whitley, he didn’t move. She splayed her gloved fingers across his forearm. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

Whitley eyed her, chewing the inside of his cheek, obviously thinking.

“How?” asked Whitley.

“I don’t know,” confessed Weiss, shaking her head. “But I know I won’t stop until I do, no matter what it takes.” She swallowed, mouth dry. “I’m not… I’m not giving up on you.” Her voice cracked. “Not you and not Mom. I won’t leave you to die.” Her eyes glistened and Whitley blurred. She wiped at the tears, ignoring the ones that slipped down her cheeks. “I can’t make you believe me, and I won’t stay. I just wanted to check on you.”

Whitley watched her, brow furrowed. “There’s no point in talking to Mother. She’s dead to the world. Too much alcohol and whatever Father sneaks into it when she’s not looking.”

Weiss held her breath. “What…?” She shook her head. “That’s horrible. How could he do that?”

Whitley didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. They both knew what kind of man their Father was.

“I—,” said Weiss, after a minute of silence. “I’ll go. But thank you, for not turning me in.”

“He’s talking to someone,” said Whitley. “I don’t know who. Two people, men. One looks like a rat and the other is…” Whitley wrinkled his brow. “He speaks like old money and walks like a criminal.”

Weiss nodded. Salem’s infiltrators. But two? That wasn’t what they’d expected.

“Okay, thank you,” said Weiss. “I really appreciate that, Whitley. Be safe.” She turned and started down the hall.

“Wait,” said Whitley, quietly. Weiss stopped. “Before you go, could you…”

Weiss turned back to him, head tilted. “What is it? How can I help?”

Whitley reached up and touched the side of his face, under his black eye. “Aura helps you heal, right?” Weiss nodded, slow. “Could you activate mine?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I might not have our semblance, but at least with aura, Father can’t hurt me as badly.”

Weiss’ breath caught in her throat. “Of course,” she said, matching Whitley’s volume. “I… I’d be honoured.” She lifted her hand and splayed it against his unmarked cheek. “And semblance or not, you are one of us, Whitley.” She smiled. “And who knows, maybe you do have our semblance. Father’s _rarely_ right, you know.”

Whitley huffed and let his hand fall to his side.

“Close your eyes,” whispered Weiss. He did. Weiss took a deep breath. She’d never done this before, but Klein had done it for her, just like Mom had done it for Winter. She knew the words from that.

And even if she didn’t, Jaune whispered them in his sleep, when he was having nightmares.

Weiss exhaled slowly. “For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all,” she swallowed thickly and licked her lips, “infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee.” The world tilted, dimming around the edges. Her hand dropped from Whitley’s cheek and she hunched over, fingers digging into her knees as she gasped for air.

 _Hell_. That took more energy than she thought.

“Weiss?” His voice was distant. Her ears were ringing. She pushed herself up as best she could and lifted her gaze to Whitley. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed and managed a nod. “I’ll be all right. I didn’t expect it to take that much energy.” She managed to get herself mostly upright, though still slightly hunched. “I used my aura to unlock yours, but the energy protecting you now should be your own.” She paused. “I think.” She glanced at the wounds on his face. “If you focus, you should be able to heal them.”

Whitley shook his head. “I can’t heal anything Father can see.” His voice was soft, pained. “He’ll know something is wrong. But I can already feel the pain leaving me. Thank you, sister.”

She smiled, then, after a moment’s hesitation, drew him into a hug. “Please, call me if you need _anything_ , Whitley. Even if it’s just someone to talk to who understands some of what you’re going through.” He hugged her back, clinging tight with the unenhanced strength of a regular person. That’d change, sooner or later, with his aura unlocked. “We’ll get you out of here. We’ll stop Father. I promise.”

He could take pictures. He could prove he was being abused. But that wasn’t enough to stop Father and they both knew it.

“I will,” said Whitley into her shoulder. “I promise.”

Weiss drew back. “I love you.”

Whitley stared at her, eyes now sparkling with unshed tears. “I love you, too.” His voice was choked, cracked through. “Thank you.”

She smiled, eyes brimming with her own tears, now. “See you soon.” She stepped back, gave him one last smile, and turned.

She’d see Mom another night. She needed to leave before she got caught, and if Whitley said she was dead to the world, then she was. Whitley had always kept a close eye on Mom.

Wiping at her eyes, Weiss headed for the window. Maybe now she could finally sleep.

* * *

Ruby’s eyes were half-closed as she leaned partially against the seat and partially against Penny. It was early morning. The sun rose behind the truck as it rumbled across the snow and ice, crossing the vast expanse between Mantle and the Amity Coliseum launch site. It was a long trip, made longer by the wheels and the truck and the automated Knight driving.

She yawned. “It’s too early for this.”

From the back, she heard Uncle Qrow chuckle. “Yeah, it’s pretty damn early.”

Ruby yawned again and scooted herself a little closer to Penny, enjoying the closeness with a little smile.

“I win again,” said Clover, behind them. He sighed. “Are you sure you want to play? We could change games.”

“Deal the damn cards, golden boy,” said Uncle Qrow, sounding grumpy. “Ugh.”

Clover chuckled. “The general keeping you up at night?” There was a tease to his voice that made Ruby’s ears warm. She knew that tone. She knew what it meant. It was the same tone Uncle Qrow got when he talked about bar conquests. _Eugh._

“One, you realize that _no_ , and two, there are _children_ in this truck, you dumbass.”

“You swear more when you’re tired,” said Clover.

Uncle Qrow snorted. “You don’t _fuckin’_ say.”

Ruby winced. It’d been a long couple of weeks and she didn’t have the energy to say anything. She just wanted to go back to sleep, but she couldn’t. Yang hadn’t said anything last night, when she’d finally turned up. And she’d been gone by the time everyone woke up. Weiss looked worn and exhausted when Ruby left this morning, and she hadn’t been there when Ruby got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Her team was ripping itself apart at the seams and Ruby didn’t know what to do.

She wished she could ask Mom. Mom would know what to do. Or maybe Dad. He’d held stuff together for a long time.

“Are you okay, Ruby?” asked Penny, her voice soft. “You seem distressed.”

“What’s up, kiddo?” called Uncle Qrow from the back.

Ruby fidgeted. With regret, she pushed herself off Penny and shifted up onto her knees so she could lean over the back of the seat and look at everyone. The knight driving the truck didn’t falter. It wasn’t programmed to.

“I… have a hypothetical question,” said Ruby, slowly.

“All right,” said Uncle Qrow, tossing down his cards, face-up. Ruby didn’t know much about poker, but based on Clover’s expression, she’d say Uncle Qrow had a bad hand. “Lay it on me.”

“What do you do if you, hypothetically,” she swallowed, “end up in a situation where you don’t know what to do? Where no matter how much you know, you can’t decide which option to take?” She thought of Salem, and of Oscar and Ozpin, of the divide slowly cracking open her team. Of the people she wanted to save but had lost. Penny’s presence was heavy on her right and her fingertips trembled with how much it ached to be near her, at times.

“You pick the good option,” said Clover. “The heroic one.”

Uncle Qrow rolled his eyes. “You pick the best option you have with the information you’ve got. Hope it works out.”

Ruby nodded, but that wasn’t _good enough_. Her mind ran ahead of her, terrifying her with futures she hoped never came true.

“What if there is no good option? What if…” Ruby swallowed. “What if you come up to a choice, between two things, and no matter which one you pick, something awful will happen? Someone will get hurt?” Ruby’s knees ached from kneeling on the seat. “What then?”

Uncle Qrow and Clover looked at one another. Penny rested a hand on Ruby’s shoulder.

“Ruby…,” started Penny.

“You pick the option that’ll save the most people,” said Clover. “That’s what we’re taught in Atlas.”

Ruby looked away. The most people. The needs of the many over the needs of the few. That was how things worked in Remnant.

“But…” But what if that wasn’t what she wanted? Was it ever okay to choose the one over the many? Was it ever okay to choose wrong? “What if I don’t…” She trailed off, uncertain.

“Then you stop thinking with your head,” said Uncle Qrow, cutting her off. “And you think with your heart. You choose the option that your heart tells you is best. That’s how you live with yourself, afterward. No matter the cost.”

Ruby swallowed. “You really think that works?”

Uncle Qrow looked her in the eye. “Kid, that’s the _only_ reason I’m still here. Because when shit went to hell in a handbasket, I picked with my heart. Maybe it was the wrong choice, but it’s the one you can live with, even if it hurts more people.”

“That’s not how huntsmen work,” said Clover. “We’re meant to save people, not just ourselves.”

Uncle Qrow gave him a hard look. “We’ve got free will. We can choose.”

“Not if you’re killing people!” protested Clover, his voice raising and echoing through the truck. Ruby winced. “What then? You’re wrong, Qrow. You can’t—”

“The only reason,” said Uncle Qrow, his voice a snarl and his eyes flashing red, “that your _fucking general_ is alive today, is because I picked him over civilians. If I hadn’t, he’d be dead, Atlas would be run by fucking Jacques fucking Schnee, and you’d probably be six feet under with a bullet in your brain.”

Clover flinched. Looked down and away. He didn’t say anything else.

Uncle Qrow faltered and drooped onto the floor of the truck, back hitting the back of the seat Ruby leaned against. “Sorry,” said Uncle Qrow, bowing his head and scrubbing his fingers through his hair. “Sorry, that was way out of line.”

Clover let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, it was.” He tilted his head. “How’d you know?”

Know? Ruby frowned. Know that Clover would have been killed by another hunter? Or— The other option struck her in the chest. She shrank down in her seat, turned, and dropped into it so she could stare out the windshield. She hugged herself. Penny watched her, the confusion etched on her face.

“Educated guess based on how you’ve been hanging off me,” said Uncle Qrow. “Knew it wasn’t attraction, so it had to be something else. And hero worship doesn’t garner that kind of concern.”

“Ruby?” Penny’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Do you—”

“Can I have a hug?” whispered Ruby. Penny nodded and scooted close, hugging her tight. They stayed like that for a little while as the two men behind them went back to playing cards and discussing things that Ruby didn’t quite understand. Something about military tactics and mental health statistics.

How had Uncle Qrow known such things about Clover? She never would have guessed those things about Clover. He seemed so nice, and happy, but then, didn’t the happiest people hide the most pain? Nora was a great example of that. She was happy, upbeat, cheerful all the time. Yet her nightmares were the most common, her fears the deepest, and her need to be validated the strongest.

And Clover had been acting weird. He’d been so upset yesterday, for no reason Ruby understood, but all that had been lost in the fight with Yang.

Something else Ruby didn’t know how to fix.

The truck slowed after a time and Ruby looked up, but it wasn’t the military checkpoint that greeted her. It was a woman in worn, layered clothing with a pale ponytail, and a sheep faunus woman behind her. They’d created a makeshift blockade and were standing in front of it.

“Um, Uncle Qrow? Clover?” called Ruby over her shoulder. The truck pulled to a stop. “What do we do?”

Clover sighed. The sound tired and far older than he seemed. “I’ll handle it. Hang on.” He got up, shoved open the back of the truck, and leapt out. Qrow followed. Ruby scooted to the side and opened the passenger door of the truck. Penny slid out next to her and followed her, a hand on her shoulder.

“Robyn,” called Clover, striding around the front of the truck. “How lovely it is to see you again. Have to say, I did not expect to see Mantle’s hometown hero out here in the Solitas tundra.” He spread his hands in front of him. The tension in his shoulders was visible in every muscle that pushed against his shirt, and Ruby circled Clover to see a tight, customer service style smile in his face. “Can we help you?”

Robyn – oh, _Robyn Hill_ , the woman running against Jacques Schnee in the election. The one with all the posters around Mantle. Real posters, not just digital ones – folded her arms over her chest and huffed.

“Clover. Can’t say I’m _nearly_ as happy to see you.” She narrowed her eyes. “And yes, you can. These supplies were earmarked for Mantle construction. The outer wall. That ring any bells?”

Ruby looked to Clover. They were rerouting Dust down from Atlas into Mantle, weren’t they? Because it was technically less work overall. Was that not in official reports? Did Robyn have access to official reports?

Outside of like, an activist, and someone on the ballot, what was she in Atlas? In Mantle? _To_ Mantle?

“Yes, it does,” said Clover. “But these materials were redistributed to this military site. If you’ll check the reports, Atlas Dust supplies have been rerouted to Mantle and should be there within the next few days.”

Robyn hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Really? And you expect me to believe that?” She shook her head. “You haven’t changed, Clover. And you’re _still_ a shitty liar.”

Clover narrowed his eyes. “I’m not lying.” He held out his hand. “And I can prove it, too.”

What? What did that _mean?_

“Excuse me,” called Penny. “If we’re talking about lying, there are two people behind us who are currently cloaked somehow.” Penny looked to Robyn. “That hardly seems fair.”

“The protector of Mantle, everyone,” muttered Robyn. “Come on out, girls.”

Two women appeared, one on either side of the truck, and strode forward. One had long blue hair wrapped in fabric, and the other was a tall, broad woman with facial tattoos. Whoa.

The three women, the faunus included, grouped up behind Robyn, all of them with the same weapon over their backs.

“We’re trying to help Mantle,” said Ruby, stepping forward. “There’s a lot going on, and we need to take these supplies to where they’re going. But Clover is telling the truth, Ms. Hill.” She lifted her hands, to prove she meant no harm. “The supplies in Atlas will be there soon. My teammates and I are assigned to watch over the wall while it’s fixed. We won’t let anyone stop that.”

Robyn snorted. “You even have _children_ working for you now. Amazing.” Robyn narrowed her eyes at Clover, who glared back, eyes narrowed. “Just how far will you stoop?”

“Robyn—”

“What exactly does Ironwood need with a bunch of Dust and construction supplies at an abandoned SDC mine turned into a military project?” She put her hands on her hips. “And with the Amity Coliseum?”

“That’s classified,” said Clover. “I told you I’d confirm what I already said, but the _classified_ military site will only become your concern if you’re elected.”

Robyn glanced at his extended hand with a dismissive flick of her eyes. She shook her head. “I don’t trust you. You and I know that your semblance doesn’t play well with others.”

Clover clenched his hands into fists and ground his jaw, nose curling up, lips pulling slightly, eyes narrowing. Ruby’s own eyes went wide as she watched. She had _never_ seen Clover angry.

“That’s not true and you—”

“You, on the other hand,” said Robyn, voice level as she cut off Clover’s hard words, her gaze locking onto Uncle Qrow. “I’m _very_ interested in.” She held out her hand. “What do you say, arm candy, wanna prove to me that you’re not pulling my leg?” She shrugged with one shoulder. “If you do, my girls and I won’t put up a fight. We’ll let you go. I just want to be _certain_ that my people aren’t left out in the cold.” Her gaze flicked, momentarily, to Clover, who stood seething. “ _Again._ ”

“ _Bitch_ ,” muttered Clover, voice so low that Ruby doubted anyone else could hear. Her eyebrows shot up, eyes widening, and she glanced over to see the faunus woman’s ears wiggling. She rolled her eyes at Clover and went back to looking at Robyn.

Qrow’s gaze flicked down to her extended hand, then over to Clover, then up at her. “What _exactly_ am I agreeing to, here?”

“My semblance allows me to tell if someone is lying or telling the truth,” said Robyn. “We have to hold hands, and it works best if I ask direct questions.” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you scared of what I might find out, _sir_?”

Ruby’s hackles went up. _No one_ insulted Uncle Qrow like that. She jerked forward half a step and stopped as Clover dropped a hand to her shoulder.

“Your kid makes a good guard dog,” said Robyn.

“ _Niece_ ,” said Ruby, voice half a snarl. She blinked, surprised at her own tone. Where had _that_ come from? Maybe the fight with her team was taking more out of her than she thought.

“Niece,” echoed Robyn. “Convenient.” She looked at Uncle Qrow, something flat and annoyed in her tone and eyes.

Ruby had never been so tempted to punch another human being before.

At least not one that wasn’t actively trying to kill her.

“You wanna run a blood test?” asked Uncle Qrow, crossing his arms. “Cuz we don’t share DNA. Her sister's my niece. Makes me uncle by default.”

“And choice,” added Ruby, unable to pull the growl from her voice. For a moment, a brief, horrible moment, she imagined what would happen if she stepped out from under Clover’s hand. How fast she was, how easy it would be to slam Robyn against the sheet metal she was using to hold them here. How easy it would be to avoid the bullets and blades.

Ruby blinked and the image faded. She stumbled back a few steps, hand on the side of her head. What was she _doing_? This wasn’t her.

The lack of sleep. The fight. Everything going on.

It was getting to her. It had to be.

Penny’s hand on her shoulder. “Ruby?” Ruby leaned into it, eyes half-closed as she watched Uncle Qrow look at her, frowning, brow furrowed, before holding his hand out to Robyn.

“I’m okay,” whispered Ruby, even though she didn’t currently know what that meant. She took a shaky breath and shuffled closer to Penny, who wrapped her other arm around Ruby’s shoulders. A gesture she must have seen in the others. Studied, jotted down, and copied.

She really was just like the rest of them.

“All right. Let’s do this and get the fuck out of here before my niece decides you’d make a good punching bag,” said Uncle Qrow, drily.

Joanna snorted. “We could take her.”

Uncle Qrow levelled her with a hard, dark look. “It’s not _her_ you have to worry about.”

“That a threat, Branwen?” asked Robyn.

Uncle Qrow shrugged. “I’ll protect my family, _Hill._ ”

“Even if they shoot first?” Robyn raised her eyebrows.

Uncle Qrow smirked. “Depends why they’re shooting.”

Robyn took his hand. A golden glow spread across their joined hands and rose almost to their elbows. “I can live with that,” she said. Uncle Qrow stared at the glow, then at Robyn, eyes first wide, then narrowed. “Let’s start simple: are the supplies on the truck the ones originally earmarked for wall repairs?”

“Yes,” said Uncle Qrow, nodding. The glow turned green. Ruby straightened where she stood, staring at the glow. Her gaze flicked up to the two adults. That was _interesting._

What were the limitations? Would it register truth if a person didn’t know they were lying? What if a person believed in something that was clearly false?

She wished she could ask.

“Are you really sending replacement supplies from Atlas?” asked Robyn.

Uncle Qrow nodded. “Yes. They should be on their way as we speak.” The glow stayed green.

“Huh,” said Robyn.

Uncle Qrow smirked. He gave a rolling shrug of his shoulders that always came off as arrogant, if you asked Ruby. It suited him, in this situation. Robyn was clearly in the right in some ways, but Ruby didn’t like how she was treating Uncle Qrow.

Respect begot respect and all that. Or maybe she was just tired of listening to Yang talk the same way to the Ace-Ops. That same arrogant, half-cocked tone that made it clear that she thought she was above all this. That she didn’t need training. That she didn’t need lessons. That she was somehow _better_ than her team.

Just because she wasn’t relying on her semblance anymore didn’t mean she was perfect, Ruby wanted to scream. And who cared if she wasn’t relying on her semblance, if she was turning into a hardened, angry person who had no other emotions or time for anything that wasn’t proving she was better than everyone else?

Ruby missed her sister.

The one that didn’t have blood on her hands.

The one that would have never screamed at Blake over something she never could have stopped.

“What’s going on in the Coliseum?” asked Robyn.

Uncle Qrow rolled his eyes. “It’s a private military installation that will help all of humanity. We’re not doing it to spy, to harm, or to go against the people.” He lifted his chin, one eyebrow raised. A moment later, the glow turned green again.

Robyn huffed. “Damn. You’re good.”

“I try,” said Uncle Qrow, half grinning. “That all? Or can I go?”

“Are you really married to General Ironwood?”

Uncle Qrow blinked. “Yeah. I am.”

Green.

Robyn hummed. Uncle Qrow tried to pull away but Uncle Qrow held fast. A shadow passed over Robyn’s face and she squeezed tight, taking half a step closer to him. Ruby held her breath.

“Are you really in love with him?” asked Robyn.

Ruby gasped. _Oh no._ She fought throwing her hands over her face. Couldn’t hide her emotions as Robyn glanced at her.

Uncle Qrow looked Robyn in the eye. “Yeah. I am.”

Silence.

Green.

_Oh wow._

Robyn released his hand. “We’ll get out of your way.” She eyed Clover for a long moment, eyes narrowed. “Can I ask you something, Clover?” Ruby stared at Uncle Qrow, eyes wide.

“You gonna believe me?” he asked. She nodded. “Fine, can’t hurt.”

“He your new partner?” She nodded toward Uncle Qrow, who came up next to Ruby and Penny, the tips of his ears red.

New partner? That took her attention, if only for a second. Ruby looked up at Clover, brow furrowed. She thought he’d never had a partner. Or, well, not since school, anyway. Huh. What had happened to his old partner, anyway?

“Yeah. Looks that way,” said Clover, a hard edge to his voice. Ruby frowned. What…?

Robyn huffed a breath out her nose, looking amused. “Try not to get this one killed, all right?” Clover let out a low growl, fists bunching at his sides. “Let’s go, ladies.” She nodded to them all and turned away.

Ruby stared, eyes wide, as Uncle Qrow walked back toward the truck. He looked normal, bar the tinge of pink on his cheeks. Then she looked at Clover, who looked as furious as she’d ever seen him.

What had just _happened?_

No one spoke until they were all in the truck again, doors closed and barrier removed as the Happy Huntresses stepped aside.

“Uncle Qrow?” started Ruby.

“Don’t.” His voice was hard, spoken half into his knees from the back of the truck. “Just don’t, kid. It’s no one’s business but my own.” A pause. “And don’t… tell him, all right?”

“Of course,” said Ruby, quietly. She understood. Maybe better than everyone else in the truck. “Penny?”

She nodded. “I won’t say anything.”

“Neither will I,” said Clover, sounding faraway.

“What was that about your old partner?” asked Uncle Qrow.

“No,” said Clover, and Ruby could hear the edge coming back into his tone. “We’re not doing this. I like you guys, but you don’t know me well enough for that story.” He let out a frustrated exhale. “Just… let it go for now. Please.”

“Okay,” said Ruby. She settled back into her seat and stared straight ahead as the military site opened up in front of them.

This was _supposed_ to be a break from all the fighting back in Atlas, but now it felt like everything had just gotten much, much more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D :D :D
> 
> I would adore your feedback! So very much. This chapter is a lot!


	18. Divide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Divide them,_  
>  Tear them apart,  
> Sever their trust, it will strangle their hearts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Updating after only one week? It's more likely than you think.
> 
> When V8 started I figured this fic would go one of two ways. Either I'd lose motivation and struggle with biweekly updates but still fight for them, or I'd be so flooded with ideas and motivation that I shove aside literally every other fic to work on this one.
> 
> ...Guess which one I landed on.
> 
> Anyway this chapter is 11,000 words. Have fun.
> 
> Oh hey, remember that one off line James had in the V7E3 chapters about Clover checking out missing tech in Atlas?
> 
> And you guys thought that was _set dressing_. Heh heh.

Blake looked up at the knock on the door, the room silent but for the uneven breathing of three people who didn’t know what to talk about. There was an unasked question in the room, but no one was going to bring it up.

No one knew where she was. No one knew what she was doing. Blake wanted to say she didn’t care, but she did. She didn’t want Yang to get hurt. She didn’t want Yang to suffer.

But she did.

But she didn’t.

But she did.

She’d worked so long to keep her and Yang’s relationship together. She’d tried so hard to make up for what she did. She loved Yang, just liked she loved Weiss and Ruby and the others. Maybe in a different way. Maybe in a completely different way. A way she was scared to talk about. Think about. Because last time, it had ended with a blade in a stomach and a look she’d never forget.

The knock sounded again.

“Come in,” called Ruby, hugging her knees.

The door slid open and Qrow was there, leaning in the doorway, his eyes redder than Blake was used to.

“Sun’s down,” said Qrow, his gaze on Blake. “And the darkness of Mantle is stretchin’ its legs, kiddo. You ready to bust its kneecaps?”

Blake set down her book and got to her feet. She grabbed her second jacket, the black one instead of the white, with the deep hood that would let her hide, and nodded to him.

“Where are you going?” asked Ruby.

Weiss stared at her, silent.

Blake shrugged. “To bust kneecaps,” she repeated. “Spy work.” She cast a glance at them both. “You’re… not suited for it, sorry.”

“We’re not as ruthless,” said Weiss.

“Weiss,” hissed Ruby.

Blake smiled, bitter and small. “She’s right. It’s what I do.” She turned. “Don’t wait up.” She pushed passed Qrow and let him follow her. “So, where do we start?”

Qrow came level with her, hands in his pockets. “We start with the intel – the bars.”

Blake nodded. “Lead the way.”

* * *

It was kind of funny how different Mantle looked from a slightly changed angle. From the streets, it was a grim and gritty place with people who alternated between sad and intimidating. From above, on the rooftops, Blake mostly just felt sorry for all of them. Their world was small, and shadowed, and an even worse darkness loomed closer than Atlas ever could.

But tonight wasn’t about Mantle. Tonight was about Atlas, and the missing technology General Ironwood suspected Salem’s cohorts were smuggling out of it.

“Am I even allowed in bars?” asked Blake as she and Qrow darted across the rooftops. He, too, had dressed for the occasion, a dark jacket with a hood that could have been the twin to Blake’s.

Qrow shrugged. “You’re certainly not gonna be told to leave.”

Blake frowned. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“You willing to put a few handsy guys through some tables?” Qrow stopped and so did Blake. He watched her, eyebrows raised. Blake swallowed.

“Yeah,” she said. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” The trembling in her throat and fingertips said otherwise. She swallowed, again, despite her dry mouth. “Let’s go.”

The two climbed down off the roof and dropped onto the street. Qrow nodded at a building across the way and they crossed the wet and foggy street to the glowing door that only half covered the noise coming from inside.

Qrow pushed open the door and Blake followed.

From dark to a different kind of dark, low lamps on the walls and on tables that painted the place and its patrons in a shade of yellow-orange not naturally seen. It smelled of booze, sweat, and cigarette smoke, a pungent odour that cloaked the entire place as surely as the shadows and smoke. People looked up when they walked in, mostly scarred, mostly men. They eyed the two, gazes flickering as Qrow slipped over to the bar while Blake remained along the wall. The gazes refocused on Blake and she took a breath, forcing herself to square her shoulders and lift her chin.

None of these men were huntsmen. Or, they hopefully weren’t. They couldn’t hurt her. And, even if they could, she had back-up. Qrow would help if something happened.

Blake watched Qrow talk to the bartender, who shook his head and gestured toward a group of people. Qrow kept talking, hands flying, and the bartender talked too. She couldn’t make out the words, only the tones. There was too much noise to sort everything out, even for her enhanced hearing.

But Qrow sounded annoyed, and the man sounded bored. Hm.

Movement to one side and Blake turned to see a large man approaching her. She backed up, swallowing hard. He couldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t…

Blake’s back hit the wall. She stared up at the man, voice frozen in her throat as he grabbed at her arm. _Fight_ , her brain hissed, but she couldn’t. Every inch of her trembled as he leaned in close and smelled her hair.

 _Scream, attack, do SOMETHING._ But she couldn’t. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could barely even _breathe._

“Aren’t you pretty?”

“Hey, buddy.” Qrow’s voice. “Hands off the girl.”

The man snorted. He was missing teeth. He smelled like booze and smoke and blood. He smelled like _him._ “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” sneered the man.

Blake held her breath.

The man jerked, went flying backward, and slammed into a table. It splintered and broke beneath him, dropping him to the hard, dirty floor.

Qrow stood in the space between Blake and the rest of the bar, his hands in his pockets, his posture slack, his expression dull.

“Thought I made myself pretty clear,” said Qrow. The sword on his back caught one of the low lights and a dozen pairs of eyes glued themselves to it. Qrow smiled, sharp, predatory.

Hungry.

“Now,” said Qrow, “my friend and I are looking for information on missing technology in Atlas. You folks seem like you know something.” Qrow gave a pointed look to the fancy Scrolls several were holding. The one-sided kind that only the military was supposed to have. Weren’t they still prototypes?

“You looking for trouble?” asked another man, lifting his chin.

Blake lifted her hand, grabbing for Gambol Shroud. Qrow held his hand up to stop her. He was relaxed, at ease, in a way Blake had never seen on him before.

“Depends on if you think you can cause it,” said Qrow, with an easy shrug. It almost seemed like his eyes were glowing. Could his eyes glow? Were they glowing? “Because from what I can see? None of you stand a chance.”

A man jerked forward and another hauled him back.

“Man, that’s a _huntsman_ ,” hissed the second man.

“Yeah? So I guess I’m hunting huntsmen.” The first jerked free and launched himself at Qrow. Everything happened fast. The man charged, Qrow sidestepped, grabbed the man by his arm, and swung him around. Slammed him, face first, into a table, twisted his arm up and planted his free hand on his back.

“You were saying?”

The man jerked and growled, but Qrow held fast.

“Now,” said Qrow, twisting the man’s arm. He groaned against the table. “You’re going to tell us where that Scroll of yours came from.”

“Or what?” asked the man, then grunted when Qrow twisted harder.

“You’re, what, a miner?” The man nodded. “All right. How many fingers does that take?” A shadow passed over Qrow’s face. “Round down.” Almost a growl.

Blake swallowed, but kept her hand on Gambol Shroud and didn’t let her worry show. Gods, what was Qrow, when he started working? This wasn’t like Mom, this was a lot scarier. A lot darker. A lot more… _feral._

She saw Yang, eyes glowing, red, fire in her hair. But this was different. Yang’s was anger. Qrow didn’t seem angry.

Just… _amused._

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you, fuck,” said the man. He grunted again. “We picked them up out of a warehouse near the docks. Purple door. Forty-three. Can’t miss it.”

“And your buddies?”

“I don’t know.”

A snap. The man howled. Blake gasped. One of his fingers was bent at an unnatural angle. Blake hadn’t even seen Qrow move.

“Try again,” said Qrow.

“Warehouse eighty-five, by the crater!” shouted the man into the wood.

Qrow let him go. He sagged and collapsed onto the table.

“All right,” said Qrow. “Thanks for your time. Let’s go, Blake.”

“Aren’t you the General’s husband?” asked a man by the wall.

Qrow grinned at him, eyes flashing crimson in the shadows. “Yeah.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “And you fuckers thought Ironwood was the mean one.” He pushed the door open and stepped out into the night. Blake followed, eyes wide.

“What was _that?”_ she asked, once they were clear.

“My job,” said Qrow.

“That seemed like more than a job.”

“I’m good at very few things, kid,” said Qrow, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “That’s one of them. And me? I don’t like spilling blood. Easier ways to do it.”

Blake frowned. “Like breaking fingers?”

“White Fang do it differently?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Blake looked away. “Didn’t think so.” A pause. “You okay? Back there you sorta froze up.”

Blake bristled. “I’m fine.” She couldn’t fight men like that anymore. Something inside her, when she’d stabbed Adam, had broken. Like all that fear and panic had come racing back into her, just as his blood had stained her hands and gotten under her nails. “It won’t happen again.”

It would. She knew it. Could feel it. She had to figure out how to stop it. Had to figure out how to fight back against men again.

“All right,” said Qrow, with a nod. “C’mon, we got warehouses to check out.”

Blake nodded. “Yeah,” she said, casting a look back at the bar. She couldn’t help but wonder just what else Qrow was capable of, watching him in that bar, and how it wasn’t that different from what she used to do. How, even though it shocked her, it hadn’t scared her. The men scared her. Her reaction to them scared her.

Qrow hadn’t.

What also scared her? How easily she could see herself falling back into those patterns, the same ones she’d abandoned for Beacon.

“Coming.”

* * *

Dawn came too early and Qrow groaned, yanking the blanket back over his face as the sun shone through the blinds. The sounds of life murmured through the door and he pulled the blanket back down to squint at the ceiling. Of _course_ James was already awake. Dawn came way too late in Atlas, and James didn’t fucking sleep. When Qrow went to bed, he was awake, and when he woke up, he was awake. It had been that way since he’d gotten to Atlas.

With a curse, Qrow pushed himself out of bed, grabbed one of James’ hoodies and yanked it on to avoid the cold, and shuffled, still in yesterday’s socks, out into the living space and toward the smell of dark roast. Ugh. Dark roast.

Didn’t James know it had even less appeal than regular?

“Morning,” said James, without looking up from his Scroll. Qrow groaned and shuffled into kitchen, scooting past James to pour himself coffee and add approximately half a dozen sugars. He heard a snort and lifted his head, raising his eyebrows. “Is that my hoodie?”

“Yes.”

“When did you steal my clothes?” asked James, his voice a little high.

“When I was puking my brains out and wrecked mine,” replied Qrow. He sipped his coffee and grimaced. _Fuck that._ It needed more sugar.

“There’s flavoured cream in the fridge. The caramel-vanilla one you like,” said James.

“Oh, hell yeah,” whispered Qrow. He scooted over to the fridge and grabbed it, pouring a liberal amount into his coffee before he sipped. _Mm._ That was much better. “I thought you hated this shit?”

“I do,” said James. “But you like it, so I picked some up.”

“Thanks,” said Qrow, putting the cream away and taking another sip. “So, what’s on the agenda for today, Jim?”

James hummed and gestured for Qrow to follow him. He did, and the two settled onto the couch. “Well, the press conference is scheduled for this afternoon. It’ll tackle both the lifting of the embargo and—and our marriage.” He grimaced into his coffee. “This is going to be interesting.”

“You want me with you?” asked Qrow.

James shook his head. “Not for the initial conference. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But for the follow ups, yes, I’d like you there.”

Qrow nodded. “All right.” It was probably going to be a fucking circus, but Qrow couldn’t help but be a little annoyed that he was being left out of what was going to be a hell of a day. He frowned and pulled his coffee closer. “If you think that’s best. Where do you want me, instead?”

James watched him with narrowed eyes. “Qrow, please, if something is bothering you—”

Qrow shrugged. “Just seems weird to leave me out, considering. I’m gonna be fucking dealing with it no matter what. Why not bring me with?”

“The press conference is going to be incredibly tense and a media circus. I’ll be asked a lot of invasive, horrible questions, and accused of a lot of things. I’ve spent over a decade being in the spotlight, but even I can’t handle it all the time.” James reached out and laid a hand over his knee. Qrow sipped his coffee, tense. “I’m not asking you to sit out because I think you’re incapable of handling it, I’m asking you to sit out because I know how awful it can be, you’re still recovering from your detox, and I don’t want you to be forced into a spotlight when you prefer the shadows.”

Qrow pulled his coffee close to him and frowned. “I can handle the spotlight.” No, he couldn’t. Back when he’d been in STRQ, back when he’d been a “famous huntsman”, his whole damn life had been in shambles.

“I know,” said James. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t. I…” He grimaced. “I worry, Qrow, about you, and about everyone else. I work to ensure that no one has to do anything I think they can avoid, if I know they’d want to.” He squeezed Qrow’s knee and gave a little smile. Qrow couldn’t help but return it. Right, James doing the overprotective thing. He wasn’t fighting or underestimating Qrow, just using twenty years of knowing Qrow to make assumptions on what he’d want.

Could Qrow really blame him for that? If James had asked, would he have wanted to go?

No. He just wanted to be included. That was all.

“Why don’t we get dinner, tonight?” asked James. “We can discuss the conference, get something nice to eat. There’s a lovely restaurant in the upper district you might like.”

“Asking me out, James?” teased Qrow, waggling his eyebrows, annoyance forgotten.

James chuckled. “In a sense,” he said, nodding, smiling. “You _are_ my husband, after all, I’d imagine dates are customary even in married life?”

Qrow’s ears warmed. “Wouldn’t know, but sounds good to me.”

James got to his feet and pressed a hand to Qrow’s cheek. Qrow smiled at him.

“I’m sorry for not asking first, I’ll do that in the future.”

“All I ask,” said Qrow. “Good luck.”

James nodded, and he was gone. Qrow pulled out his Scroll. Did he need fancy clothes for this dinner? Maybe he should ask Clover…

* * *

Mantle was better than Atlas. It was dirtier, darker, and smelt worse, but it was easier to disappear. Yang didn’t stand out the same way she did in Atlas. Didn’t garner looks the way she did in Atlas. Brown and grey was Mantle’s colour scheme, and the only part of Yang that didn’t fit was her hair.

Exhaustion clung to Yang the same as the grime and the smog. Atlas glittered above it, bright and clean and bullshit. Yang had come down early this morning, having slipped out of the dorm before her teammates awoke. She didn’t need to deal with them. Didn’t know what she’d do.

Apologize, yeah, but it wasn’t like Blake would forgive her. Wasn’t like anyone would. Yang had said something awful. Terrible. Unforgiveable. And now she was paying the price.

Why? Why had she done that? Why had she lashed out?

Rain splattered Yang’s hair. She grimaced, took a deep breath, and let her core temperature raise until the rain evaporated as it hit her. The unzipped leg of her pants kept a cool breeze on her skin and kept her from overheating.

Blake was right. They’d both killed Adam, and Blake had known Adam long before Yang had. Yang had only dealt with him _once_ before the day they’d killed him. Hell, Blake wouldn’t even talk about a lot of the shit he’d done to her. But that didn’t mean Yang hadn’t dealt with him! He’d cut off her _arm._ He’d taken away a part of her, and he’d taken away Blake right when everything was starting to go well.

And now everything sucked and was terrible and how much of it was Yang’s fault? A lot. But it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t like she was the only one who’d had stuff happen to her, and it wasn’t like she was the only one who had said shitty stuff. Weiss was being snappy, the Ace Ops seemed on edge, and Ruby was—

Yang stopped, feet shifting in the slush on the floor.

Ruby.

Gods, what was she _doing?_

The rain splattered as Yang’s temperature dropped, semblance forgotten.

When had Yang _ever_ attacked Ruby? When had Yang ever attacked her family? Gods, how stupid was she being?

Noise ahead yanked Yang from her thoughts. Her head snapped up. Several men in patchy coats were pushing at a woman with animal ears. She was shorter and smaller than them, but she didn’t back down, even as they circled her.

Yang started forward.

“—care about humans, not faunus,” one of the men was saying.

“Robyn Hill cares about all people in Mantle,” said the woman. Her ears were sheep, downturned and where ears were on most people. Replacing instead of adding, like Blake.

“Who gives a shit about faunus?” snapped one of the men.

“I do!” said the woman. “And so does Robyn!”

The man swung. Yang charged.

The woman ducked, but a second swing caught her on the side of the head. She tumbled to the wet ground.

“Hey, asshole!” The man turned just as Yang launched herself off the ground. One fist into the side of the guy’s head, the other into his stomach. He went flying. Yang landed, spun, fists up. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

The remaining men squared up, but the sirens of the drones were closing in. The woman got to her feet, grabbed Yang by the wrist, and pulled.

“Come on, we’ve gotta go!” she said, yanking Yang. Yang followed her, feet tripping over the ground as the two ran away from the men, the drones, and the noise. They darted around the corner and vanished down an alleyway.

When they stopped, the woman turned and grinned up at Yang.

“That was pretty cool of you,” said the woman.

Yang blinked. “Me punching a guy in the face was cool?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I couldn’t do it, because I’m part of Robyn’s campaign, but _you_ could, and you did, even though you’re Atlas, you didn’t just stand by.” The woman smiled. “I’m Fiona.”

Yang blinked. “Yang.”

“Yang,” echoed Fiona. “Good to meet you. So yeah, thanks for saving me, I appreciate it.”

“I’m not Atlas,” said Yang.

Fiona raised her eyebrows. “You look like Atlas.”

Yang folded her arms. “Yeah, well, I’m not from there, and it’s not like I’m welcome there at the moment.”

Fiona gave her a sad smile. “You neither?” A hesitation. “All right, c’mon.” She gestured with one hand and started down the alleyway. When Yang didn’t follow, Fiona turned back around and beamed at Yang. “C’mon! It’ll be great. I promise.”

Yang sighed. Eh, she could take Fiona if she needed to. Not that she wanted to. But… fuck. When did everything get so complicated? Why was she thinking about punching a woman who she’d just saved, who’d never done anything to her?

Why was everything risk assessment now?

Fiona led her down a handful of alleys and through a doorway behind a dumpster. Yang stumbled as the lighting changed, the cramped stairs led down into a low-ceilinged room that made her feel claustrophobic.

“I’m back,” called Fiona. “And I made a friend!”

Yang followed Fiona into the dirt-floored room and stared as she came face to face with the woman on all the posters.

“Robyn!” Fiona skipped forward and gave Robyn a hug. Yang kept staring, jaw dropped. Two other women were in the room, a broad woman with facial tattoos and a slight woman with her hair wrapped in fabric. “Look, a new friend.”

“You do make them wherever you go,” said Robyn, a teasing tone in her voice. She inclined her head. “Robyn Hill. What brings you here?”

“She saved me from a bunch of douchebags,” said Fiona. “Even though she’s Atlas.”

“I’m not Atlas,” said Yang, voice tight.

“She’s not welcome there, right now,” said Fiona.

Yang scowled. The slight woman with the ponytail grinned at her.

“You kicked out too? Pull up a chair, blondie. We’ve got enough food to go around. You hungry?” asked the slight woman.

Yang shook her head. “No.” Her stomach growled. The women all grinned at her. “Fine.” She joined them on the floor, sitting around a low table that was covered in bowls of something thick and delicious smelling and, underneath, a stained map of Mantle covered the entire surface. The big woman handed her a bowl and smiled to her. “Thanks.”

“No problem, kid,” said the woman. “I’m Joanna, that’s May,” she nodded to the ponytailed woman.

“Yo,” said May.

“And you’ve already been introduced to Fiona and Robyn.” Joanna grinned. “So, what brings you to Mantle?”

Yang stirred the bowl and took a bite. _Holy shit._ She’d had good stews before but whoever made this was some kind of god. Maybe that was their semblance, cooking. Yang had seen stranger ones. She’d met a woman whose semblance was perfect balance, once, both herself and everything she touched. _That_ was cool.

“Team doesn’t want me,” said Yang, taking another bite. She sighed. “I kinda fucked up, ended up hurting them.” She stabbed at the potatoes in the stew and shook her head. “I deserve it, honestly.”

Joanna snorted. “Yeah, you’re definitely Atlas. You got the self-loathing down pat, right May?”

May hummed. “Yup. I think I was as bad when I was in the Academy.”

Yang narrowed her eyes at the two women. “I’m not _in_ the Academy. I’m a licensed huntress.”

Silence.

“Really?” asked Robyn. Yang tensed. Ah, _fuck_. What had she done this time? “A licensed huntress of student age in Atlas.” Robyn tilted her head to one side. “Do you have a sister?”

Trap.

Yang shifted, getting one foot under her so she could run if need be. “Uh… why?”

“Do you work with the Ace-Ops?” asked May.

_Crap. Crap. Crap._

“Listen, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true,” said Yang, planting one hand on the table. “We’re trying to help Atlas, and we’re doing all we can.”

“Are you?” asked Robyn, holding out her hand. “Prove it.” Yang stared at the hand.

“Robyn,” said Fiona, nudging her. “Maybe we should leave her alone? She seems like she’s having a rough time.”

“And Mantle isn’t?” asked Robyn, lifting her chin.

Fiona frowned. “Mantle having a hard time doesn’t negate other people’s experiences, especially not when they’re hurting too.” Fiona put a hand on Robyn’s arm. They sat side by side at the table, and Yang figured she’d probably taken one of their spots. “Please. She helped me, and you already got all the information you needed from Branwen.”

“Branwen?” asked Yang. “You know my uncle?”

“Met him on the ice, a couple days ago,” said Robyn. “He told us that Atlas is sending relief supplies to make up for what they’re taking from Mantle.”

“They are,” said Yang, clenching her hands. “Atlas might not be great, but my uncle wouldn’t lie about helping people. He’s a good guy.” Even if his taste in fake husbands was shitty. Even if his way of dealing with things was worse. Even if she wanted to scream at him, half the time.

“I know. I checked,” said Robyn. She dropped her hand into her lap and looked at Fiona. “For you? I’ll lay off, just this once.”

Fiona smiled. “Thank you.”

Yang raised an eyebrow. Now _that_ was interesting. Were these women the all-girl, gay version of the Ace-Ops? Wait. There was a name for them.

“You’re the Happy Huntresses,” said Yang.

“You’ve heard of us?” asked Robyn, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re trying to be the new council member,” said Yang, nodding to Robyn, “and this is your all-girl crew of badass huntresses, yeah?”

“Yup! That’s us,” said May, grinning. “We’re pretty amazing. Hold your applause.” She gave a little bow and Joanna snorted, smacking May between the shoulders.

Robyn leaned forward against the table. “I appreciate that you’re so protective of your uncle. It seems both of you are.”

“We still sure that other kid is the niece, not the daughter?” asked May, with a snort.

Yang saw red. “No.” Her voice was hard. “You don’t make that joke. _No one_ makes that joke.” The heat in the room rose. “It’s bad enough we got that at home. A bunch of assholes who’ve never met us don’t get to question family.” She smacked a hand off the table.

“What’s got you so wound up? It’s just a joke,” said Joanna.

“It’s not a joke,” said Yang. “We have the same Dad, and just because Ruby likes to dress like Qrow doesn’t mean they’re father and daughter.” She tossed down the spoon, bowl mostly empty, and leaned back. Don’t set shit on fire. Don’t set shit on fire. “Don’t make jokes about shit you don’t understand.”

Yang remembered. The tears, the comments, the whispers in Patch. The way people used to sneer at Dad at the market because they thought he was raising a child who was the product of infidelity. Remembered the way Ruby had asked Dad why people didn’t think Mom had loved him. Why people thought Qrow hadn’t loved him. Remembered Ruby demanding Qrow take her to get a paternity test, because she wanted Dad to stop having nightmares. Because Dad was scared. Scared his own mind was lying to him. Scared he’d never be able to trust himself ever again.

“Okay,” said Robyn, voice gentle. “Sorry.”

Paternity test between Ruby and Qrow had come back negative. No shared DNA. They weren’t family in the way people thought.

But they were family in every way that mattered.

“Can I ask you something, Yang?” asked Robyn.

“Sure,” said Yang, taking a deep breath. The temperature in the room started to lower again. Out of the corner of her eye, Yang saw May and Joanna exchange a look, then look at Yang. Yeah, the semblance thing tended to make people freak out. She was used to it.

“Why are you here?” asked Robyn. “Not, Mantle, but Atlas. You said you weren’t from Atlas. So, why are you here?” She lifted her chin and raised both eyebrows.

Yang pressed her lips together, debating what she could say. Fact: Robyn’s semblance was probably some kind of truth thing, she’d hinted at it when she mentioned Qrow, and hinted at it when she’d held out her hand and told Yang to “prove it”. Fact: Robyn was a politician. Politicians were scum. They’d use everything they could to get an advantage.

Fact: the world was ending. RRAYNBOW, maybe, was going to stop it. Or at least, they were going to try.

“We’re from Vale, all of us,” said Yang, staring down at the table. Her eyes traced what parts of the map she could see, seeing which ways the coffee stains distorted the streets. “When Beacon fell, we wanted to help. Mistral… well, it went okay. But Atlas seems like it’s the worst off, y’know?” Yang looked over them all. “So, we came here, to see if we could help put the world back to normal.”

May snorted. “We don’t want _normal_ , we want _better_.” She folded her arms. “Atlas has a lot wrong with it. You think General Ironwood gives a damn about people like us?” She jutted her chin out. “Do you?”

Yang swallowed. “Yeah, kinda? The guy isn’t a big as a douchebag as I thought.” Yeah he was kind of a shit, and she didn’t like him, but he listened. And besides, they didn’t know him. Yang did. Yang could shit on him all she liked because _she knew him._ “He’s tough, and stubborn, but man, he’s got some points. We told him a lot of his ideas were shit and based on bad information and he just changed the plan like it was nothing.” She shook her head. “He tries, even if he’s an ass sometimes. And if you bring shit to him, he listens.” She shrugged. “Maybe you don’t believe me, that’s fine, I dunno if I believe me.”

Robyn smiled, small. “It’s good to know that not everyone in Atlas thinks Ironwood is infallible.”

“Not even close,” said Yang, rolling her eyes. “Look, it’s not as if I’m friends with the guy, I just don’t think he’s the worst Atlas has to offer.” He seemed to like Qrow a lot. He seemed to listen well. He’d sent her the arm that had helped her come out of her depression. He understood things, even if he didn’t seem like it. “That’s all.”

“Sure,” said Robyn, and she was smiling like she knew what Yang was thinking. Maybe she did. Yang thought of boobs to see how Robyn would react.

Nothing.

“And besides,” said Yang, trying to stay on topic. “He’s not even the worst of the military. Like have you _met_ Clover Ebi?”

Robyn snorted. “Oh, I’ve met him all right. I went to school with him.”

“Yeah?” Yang raised her eyebrows. “Were you on his team?”

Robyn eyed her with a curious, thoughtful look that had Yang shifting in her seat. Robyn shook her head, a note of awe to her voice when she spoke. Awe and disbelief.

“You really don’t know.”

“Know what?” asked Yang.

“Ask him, sometime,” said Robyn, with a crooked smile. Was it bitter or smug? How the hell was she supposed to know? “The Ace-Ops aren’t as shiny as they look, Yang, and some of them have blood on their hands, especially their so-called fearless leader.”

Yang narrowed her eyes. What was _that—_ had Clover done something to his team? His partner? Or had he just let it happen? She swallowed, stomach churning the stew into something hot and sinister.

Was that they he was so tense?

“Now, we have some work to do today that you might not approve of,” said Robyn, “but these people need our help. So, you can leave, or you can stay, but if you stay, you’re being put to work.”

“Helping Mantle?” guessed Yang. Wasn’t that the whole reason they were here? To help people? Sure, saving the world was important, but what was the point if the people weren’t around to enjoy it? She’d seen enough of Mantle just in her short stint in its streets to know these people had far bigger problems than an evil immortal bitch they’d never heard anything about.

Besides, who cared about the law if she was doing the right thing?

“Yup,” said Robyn.

“I’m in,” said Yang. “If you’ll have me,” she added. Besides, maybe she could get more information about Clover out of Robyn. If they’d gone to school together, she had to know all about him, and she’d already said that she knew what he was hiding. Dual purpose law-breaking.

The four women smiled at her.

Robyn nodded. “Then let’s get to work, ladies.”

* * *

Oscar sat, cross-legged on the couch, and watched General Ironwood’s press conference with several other members of the team. Yang… still hadn’t come back, Blake was out doing something, and Ruby was in hiding. That left Nora, Ren, Jaune, and Weiss to watch with him, and Nora had pressed herself up against one side of him, radiating warmth and comfort like a worn teddy bear.

On screen, General Ironwood cleared his throat in front of all the microphones and began to speak. “Before we begin today, I would like to first make clear that my earlier statement of removing the trade embargo is correct. After today, we will resume trade with the various kingdoms of Remnant to ensure the continued safety of our people and survival of our economy.”

A murmur rippled through the people off-screen. Oscar rubbed his forehead. A headache pounded behind his eyes and threatened to blur his senses. Faintly, he could taste something, but he couldn’t place what it was. Something sharp and… airy?

“Furthermore, I’d like to set the record straight. I am, indeed, a married man, and my marriage was kept secret to ensure the safety of my husband, Qrow Branwen.” General Ironwood’s voice rose over the swell of voices. “Now that Qrow is living full-time in Atlas, he will be taking on the duties of a Lieutenant General.”

A reporter broke through the noise. “General Ironwood, do you truly believe that releasing the embargo that _you_ created will endear you to the people of the kingdom? It seems clear that you’ve made some rather rash decisions, since you returned from Beacon. Why release the embargo now? Why have it at all?”

“At the time, I believed the embargo was the best choice for Atlas—”

_“The end justifies the means.”_

“—have changed. I welcome the return of trade to our kingdom.”

Oscar blinked. What was that other voice? He looked around, but no one looked like they’d been speaking. Everyone was glued to the holoscreen.

He blinked a few more times, to try and focus. His headache pounded. His vision blurred.

“And what of this secret marriage? To keep Atlas in the dark of their second-in-command seems unwise.”

“Same-gender marriage was legalized while I was General of Atlas,” said General Ironwood. “I feared—”

_“We’re running out of time. If we don’t do something now, we’ll lose everything.”_

_“More than we’ve already lost?”_

“—but Qrow will be taking the second Council seat I hold and I have faith he will work toward a better Atlas with all of us.”

Oscar looked around. He pushed off Nora to try and see where the voices were coming from, then yelped and jerked back into the couch.

“Oscar!”

“My head,” he said, curling into a ball. The voices were from inside him, not outside. They were something else. A memory.

Why now?

_“Look, this war isn’t going to go away just because we want it to. We have to fight.”_

_“I am willing to fight. What I am not willing to do is sacrifice thousands of lives for no reason.”_

_“No reason? If we don’t stop Salem now, she will sweep across Remnant and find every one of the relics, the maidens, and destroy us all. Is that what you want?”_

_“Stop, let go of me!” A grunt. “Of course that’s not what I want. But if we lose sight of ourselves in the battle, do we really win? Surviving isn’t enough. We have to_ live _, Basil. And if we give up everything that makes us human, then what’s the point?”_

_“That’s all well and good if we survive, but what about until then? How do we survive the war?”_

_“…I think I have an idea.”_

_“Why are you looking at me like that?”_

_“Because, my dear, I’m afraid you’re going to hate this idea, and maybe hate me as well.”_

Oscar gasped, head smacking something hard, then soft. His eyes snapped open and the world was sideways. Was he on the floor? Brothers, his head hurt. Why did his head hurt? What was happening?

“Oscar, can you hear us?” A soft voice, high and panicked, but soft. “Please, talk to us.” Nora. It was Nora talking. Oscar blinked a few times and turned his head, seeing Nora hovering above him. She smiled at him, tears in her blurry eyes. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Oscar managed a slow nod, then winced when it echoed across his skull like a ping pong ball. “I’m okay.” Nora gently lifted him until he was sitting and Oscar leaned against her. “Just… a headache.”

“You collapsed off the couch,” said Weiss. “That doesn’t sound like a normal headache to me.” He couldn’t see her, but he imaged she had her hands on her hips.

War. Sacrifice. Losing your humanity to win a fight against a woman who’d done the same. Whose conversation had he heard? How long ago was it? What was that about relics and maidens? Weren’t they safe in the schools, before the fall of Beacon? He hadn’t seen anything, just heard the voices. Had he been one of those voices, long ago? Or, had Oz? And if so, which one?

He’d felt anger, fear, determination, and panic. And something else, something bordering on hysteria. And that taste, it was back again. This time just slightly sweet, and familiar but still unidentifiable.

“Um,” said Oscar, realizing he’d been quiet for too long.

Who could blame him? What was he seeing? He’d never had a memory like that before.

“Oscar,” said Jaune. “Please, please tell us what’s going on. We’re worried about you.” Oscar looked from Nora, who he leaned against, to Jaune, to Weiss, to Ren, who was silent in the background.

He sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I’ve…” He looked at them all, so worried, so weighed down by everything already happening, by the fights between teams, and he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t add to it. “I’m having nightmares. Lots of them.” He clenched his hands into fists. “I think it’s just the stress and having a hard time sleeping. I get weird flash migraines from it all.” Where had he learned to lie?

Was this gilded tongue his or Ozpin’s? He shuddered internally at the thought. Was he being any better than Oz?

“I’m scared.” His last words hung over everyone.

Nora hugged him tight and Oscar let himself relax into it.

“We’ll keep you safe,” whispered Nora into his clothes. “I promise.”

Oscar shifted so he could hug her back. “Thank you.” He wished he could believe her.

“Rest assured,” said General Ironwood on the holoscreen, “Atlas is in capable hands, and we will get through these uncertain times together. Thank you. No more questions.”

The noise of the reporters rose until it swallowed everything.

* * *

Clover drummed the fingers of one hand against the other forearm, staring at the clock as he waited for General Ironwood to arrive. He was late, and Clover’s patience was wearing thin. Surely, the General understood that the Ace-Ops had missions. He had to, considering he’d assigned them. If Clover were to do everything tonight, he needed this meeting to go quickly.

Besides, what could Qrow have turned up in only a day or two of spy work? He was good, yes, but no one was that good.

“You gonna stop that at some point?” asked Harriet, snorting.

“Harriet,” mumbled Marrow. “Can we not?”

“Stop sucking his dick, Marrow.” Marrow flushed. Clover narrowed his eyes.

“Does everything have to be about sex, with you?” asked Clover.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You’re asking _me_ that?” She folded her arms. “Wow, maybe look in a mirror.”

Clover got to his feet. “Excuse me—”

The door opened.

“Good evening, hunters,” said General Ironwood, strolling into the room. “I apologize for the delay. There were some questions I received from reporters that I thought important to go over with Qrow.” His arms were folded behind his back and he took a spot near the war table. “I’ve got some information I’d like all of you to see.”

“Of course, sir,” said Clover, taking his spot at Ironwood’s right. “What can we do for you?”

General Ironwood set his Scroll on the table and the heat map of Mantle upon it changed. Houses changed colour as they gained or lost importance in the current mission, the crater faded to grey, as it apparently had nothing to do with their current intel, and a handful of old storehouses turned a bright, angry red. One was near the crater, a bright light amidst the grey.

“After you gathered intel from your family’s social circle,” said General Ironwood, nodding to Clover, “I asked Qrow to check out any leads he found in the information. He and Blake returned to me with information that five separate storehouses in Mantle have become drop zones for the missing technology from Atlas.”

“Five?” echoed Harriet, coming up on General Ironwood’s other side. “You sure your hubby has that right? It’d take a hell of a lot of people to manage five.”

General Ironwood nodded. “I recognize that, but the intel is good, and Qrow checked the storehouses himself. They all have the same data, the same driver manifests, and the same residual radio waves. We’re certain that it must be all five storehouses.”

Harriet hummed. “Sounds weird to me. They could be dumping manifests and ghost data to try and spook us.”

Clover frowned. Why was Harriet being so belligerent? “If General Ironwood says it’s correct, then it’s correct.” His voice came out harder than he meant.

General Ironwood cleared his throat. “While I appreciate the support, Clover, we are all well aware, especially as of late, that I am not infallible.”

“I wouldn’t say being fed false information is a character flaw, sir,” said Clover, folding his arms behind his back. Harriet rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

“Yes, well,” said General Ironwood, clearing his throat again. “As I was saying, there are five storehouses, and there’s five of you. I want you all to take a member of Team RRAYNBOW and scout out the storehouses. While Qrow and Blake have gathered good preliminary information, we need more data before we can make a move. I want to know who is stealing my tech, and how they have enough manpower to do this.”

“Of course, sir. We’ll get on that as soon as possible,” said Clover.

“Excellent, thank you,” said General Ironwood. “There are some missions I’d like you all to take, when you get the chance. They’ve been earmarked on the app. Some more public ones to help with public approval.” He shook his head, a little smile on his face. “Apparently, it’s an important aspect of politics.”

Clover nodded. “So I’ve heard.”

“Right, then. You’re all free to continue what you were doing,” said General Ironwood. “I, uh, have dinner plans.”

“Have a good night, sir,” said Clover, unable to keep himself from smiling. After all he’d seen between the two, it was exciting to know they were getting dinner together. Especially after the… unfortunate run-in with Robyn.

What was left of Clover’s good mood broke with that thought and the click as the door shut behind General Ironwood.

“So we’re being sent on babysitting and stake-out duty?” asked Harriet, snorting. “Lame. We could just ask Polendina to check everything and see if the data’s been cloned.” She hopped up on the table and sat on the edge.

Clover frowned. “I’m sure General Ironwood already asked Dr. Polendina to do such a thing.”

“We should ask, just to be sure,” said Harriet, legs swinging in the air. “Can’t hurt.”

“Yes, it could. We’d be undermining the General.”

“We’d be double-checking that he’s done everything he could,” said Harriet, rolling her eyes. “You know, like we’d do for literally anyone else?”

“Why are you so determined to prove that the General is wrong?” asked Clover.

Harriet hopped off the table and gave him a flat look. “Why are _you_ so sure he’s right? Dude’s fucked up before.”

“He was given false information.”

“Which he never thought to question,” said Harriet. “I’m just saying, it’s good to question things. Keep him humble.”

Clover frowned. “You should watch what you’re saying, Harriet.” His voice was level. “What you’re saying could be taken as slander against General Ironwood and against Atlas.”

Harriet snorted. “What, so the kids can keep him on his toes, but we can’t? We’ve worked with him way longer, Clover!” She threw one arm in the air.

“Which is _precisely_ why we should be standing at his side and continuing to be loyal, and not throwing him under the bus whenever we get the chance.”

“Excuse me?” Harriet’s voice rose.

“You heard me,” said Clover, lifting his chin.

Harriet snorted and rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you stopped riding the general’s dick for five minutes you’d realize not everyone who disagrees with him is some kind of cartoon bad guy,” said Harriet, folding her arms over her chest. She rolled her eyes. “Wait, I forgot, you’re too much of a _man_ to take a cock, aren’t you Clover?”

Clover bristled, upper lip pulling back from his teeth. “I am _loyal_ to _Atlas_. If someone is trying to hurt our kingdom, then it’s our responsibility to stop them. Maybe we should talk about _your_ loyalty issues, Harriet.”

Harriet snorted. “Oh please, I’ve got no loyalty issues. Ironwood’s the best person in the business for what he does, and he’s a damn fine guy on top of that. But that doesn’t make him perfect, and you sucking him off at every opportunity isn’t doing him any favours.”

“Guys,” said Marrow, voice quiet.

“Not now,” they both snapped. Marrow whimpered, tail falling limp.

“Just because you don’t know what Robyn is capable of—”

“Capable of?” Harriet barked out a laugh. “Do you even hear yourself? The entire reason she hates you is centered on something _you_ did, fly boy. Maybe if you weren’t so busy trying to pretend you’re the next superhero huntsman, she’d never have gotten a reason to hate you.”

Clover flinched. “Right.” His words came out hard, clipped. Bitter. He shrugged, a twisting motion of one shoulder. “Because what happened was just a reason to hate me, yeah?” He shook his head. “Like it didn’t fuck me up too. Like I don’t already think it’s all my fault.” He looked at Harriet. “Like you haven’t been helping me through its fucking anniversary since you joined this team.”

He turned and shoved passed Elm and Vine, who stood near the door.

“You’re all fucking dismissed. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“What are you gonna do?” called Harriet.

Clover’s mouth twisted up, crooked. “The only thing I’m good at, Bree. _Fuck._ ”

* * *

Harriet stalked down the street, hands balled into fists at her sides. Clover was throwing another stupid fit and what was she supposed to do about it? Nothing! He acted all open and sweet and emotionally available, but when it came to getting close to people, he shut down. And he wondered why Harriet wasn’t keen on getting close to any of them. Maybe it was because Clover was just a fucking mask half the time. The guy couldn’t admit his own damn trauma to anyone outside his team, and wouldn’t even pretend that he was trying to deal with it.

And yeah, sure, maybe she’d gone pretty far, but the general made mistakes, and the only reason he’d changed shit at all was because the kids had rolled up with Qrow and told him he was wrong. If they didn’t hold him accountable, there was no telling what he’d do. Extremism ran deep in Atlas. It was Atlas’ stupid mindset that had—

She stopped. Mentally. Physically. Grimaced.

Fuck. She needed to text Clover and make sure he was okay. He wasn’t, but. Was it even her responsibility? He was running the self-destructive gamut that was his favourite pastime, but there were a lot more stakes this time around. If he kept this up, nothing was going to work. Someone had to go talk some fucking sense into him.

But who? She was just making it worse. Marrow didn’t do “tough love”, and neither did Vine or Elm. Hell, Harriet only knew Clover half has well as she did because he’d been her huntsman mentor when she was in her upper years at AA.

Fuck.

“Harriet?” Harriet looked up from where she’d been staring at the wet concrete sidewalk and found Winter standing under a building awning, squinting at her. “I thought that was you.” She stepped out from under the awning.

“Hey, Schnee,” said Harriet, lifting her arms to fold them behind her head. “What brings you out my way?”

Winter raised an eyebrow into her styled bangs. “I wasn’t aware we lived near each other.” The dry tone to her voice had Harriet blinking. She looked at the building where Winter had come and realized it was an apartment building – a nice one, at that. _Huh._ Probably where she lived. Whoops.

“Oh. Yeah, guess so,” said Harriet. She gave a little chuckle and rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, where ya headed?”

Winter shrugged. “I wanted to get outside. I was feeling cooped up. Do you mind if I walk with you?”

Harriet shook her head. “Nah, sure, that’s fine.” She nodded in the vague direction of her own apartment, which was in a much less classy neighbourhood than this one. “Kinda weird, not having you in the meeting about all the tech shit.”

Winter hummed, her hands clasped behind her back in rest position, the same way General Ironwood always did when he was pacing.

“It’s not my mission,” said Winter. “I can always ask General Ironwood about it, if you’d like my assistance.” She glanced at Harriet, one eyebrow raised. “Though I thought you’d have it covered, being the best.”

It took Harriet a second to realize that Winter was teasing her. She snorted, shaking her head.

“Well, yeah, we’re fine, but you know, could always use more eyes,” she said. They walked a dozen more steps before she slowed and stopped. Winter got a few steps further before she stopped and turned, brow furrowed. “Clover’s… not doing great. Team’s shaky without him.”

Winter nodded. “I’ll take a look at the files.”

“Thanks,” said Harriet. She started walking again, came abreast of Winter, and Winter rejoined her, keeping pace with much shorter strides on her taller legs. Harriet wasn’t even _short_ , she was just surrounded by people who were taller than her. It was stupid.

“Is… Clover all right?” asked Winter, after a few minutes of silence. Harriet looked up at her and raised her eyebrows. “He seems _off_ , as of late, and far be it for me to question the techniques of one of Atlas’ finest, but…”

“He’s off, yeah,” said Harriet, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “It’s a lot, but I think having the kids around, and Qrow, is fucking with him. He’s…” How did she put this delicately? “They scare him. Not, he’s not scared of him,” fuck, she was phrasing this badly, “but he’s scared they’re not going to be up for the fight. That they’ll get hurt.”

“He doesn’t think they’re capable?” asked Winter.

Harriet shook her head and lifted one hand to scrub it through her fringe. Fuck, she wasn’t doing this right. “How much do you know about Clover?” she asked.

“Not a lot,” said Winter, “except what you can learn looking up his old team.”

“CLVR, yeah,” said Harriet. “You… know anything about that team?” She hesitated. Did Winter know already? Did she know _enough_ to get context?

“I know three of them never graduated,” said Winter, folding her arms behind her back, “because they were dead before fourth year.”

Harriet nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, well, let’s just say Clover is worried about history repeating itself, is all.” She shook her head. “It’s bad.”

“Have you talked to him?” asked Winter.

Harriet snorted. “He’s pretty much impossible to talk to when he’s like this.”

Winter stopped and laid a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “Try.” Her voice was gentler than Harriet had ever seen it. “Loss is hard, I know, but he’s not more stubborn than the General, and if we can get through to him, we can get through to Clover. Your team needs their leader, my sister and her friends need mentors, and if the Ace-Ops are divided…”

“Atlas will be too,” finished Harriet. “Lot to ask of one person, Winter.”

Winter gave her a small smile. “Who says you have to do it alone? You have a team, don’t you? And myself, besides.”

“Thanks,” said Harriet. She had no idea where to start, but at least the encouragement was helping. And… _maybe_ she was being too hard on him. Clover was defensive at the best of times, and this week especially, every year. And she’d just been pushing his buttons. Not that he was any better, but…

Ah, fuck. She’d done the same thing to him that she’d apologized to Blake about, hadn’t she? Time to go talk to him, then.

“Do you… want to get coffee?” asked Winter, hesitant. “We could talk more, and I enjoy your company.”

“You asking me about, Winter?” asked Harriet, teasing. She waggled her eyebrows and her hips.

Winter stared her down. “I might be.” The corners of her mouth turned up.

Harriet flushed. _Oh._ She had _not_ seen that coming. But Winter was hot. And smart. And interesting. And… yeah. Okay. That could work. That could _definitely_ work.

“Yeah, sure,” said Harriet, a crooked smile on her face. “Why not?”

* * *

Ruby was alone in her room, curled up on her side and scrolling endlessly through social media feeds on her Scroll. Press conference responses, questions about Uncle Qrow, and plenty of people sneering about the sanctity of marriage, family, and tradition in Atlas. She shut off her Scroll and tossed it to one side, closing her eyes.

The argument with Yang resurfaced, wiping out her thoughts. Then, it blurred with other arguments, with leaving Yang behind, with all the fighting they’d done for the last year and a half.

Ruby’s eyes opened and she blinked back tears that threatened to fall.

It had been a lifetime since she was a student at Beacon.

She missed it.

A knock at the door made Ruby jump and she sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “Um, come in?” she called.

The door opened and Penny stepped into the room, beaming at Ruby with rosy cheeks and warm eyes. Ruby let out a soft breath as the tension in her shoulders and the tightness in her chest bled away.

“Hey, Penny,” said Ruby, voice low. “What’s up?” Was there a mission? Or maybe something bad had happened? Or maybe the city was under attack. At this point, Ruby would believe anything.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk,” said Penny, rocking on her heels, her hands clasped together behind her back. She smiled at Ruby, nose wrinkling with it. “It’s very nice out, and I enjoy your company.”

Ruby swallowed. “Yeah, sure.” Her cheeks heated. “That sounds great, Penny. Lemme get my boots.” Ruby hopped off her bed and scrambled into her boots, double-checking her clothes before following Penny out the door and down the hallway, toward the dorm exit into the courtyard.

“So, um, what brought this on?” asked Ruby, swinging her arms as she walked alongside Penny. “You know, you seem like you’ve got lots of important stuff going on, what as the protector of Mantle and all.”

“I do,” said Penny. She smiled at Ruby. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“O-oh?” Ruby’s voice wobbled. Stay cool, Ruby. Stay cool. You’re only going on a walk with the love of your life who has no idea how you feel.

Yeah, she was _so cool._

“You’re important to me. I thought…” Penny hesitated and brought her hand to her chin. Around them, several students were running around and laughing with one another. Atlas Academy, for all its hard knocks, was just as full of life as Beacon had been. Ruby thought she saw Neon tackle Flynt onto a couch. “It’s important to take time for friends,” said Penny. “If General Ironwood can take a night off to spend time with Qrow, then I can take a night off to spend time with you.” She beamed at Ruby.

Ruby smiled, cheeks warm.

“I’m really glad you did,” said Ruby. Penny took her down a flight of stairs and pushed open the door, leading them out the side door and into the open courtyard.

Night laid over the city like a thick blanket, dampening noise and light in all directions. Above them, stars winked into existence, more appearing with every step away from the academy. It had snowed at some point in the day, and the layer of snow further quieted the world.

It was the quietest the world had been since Ruby had arrived in Atlas.

“Why a walk?” asked Ruby, tilting her head back to enjoy the chill before looking at Penny.

Penny swung her arms, much like Ruby had a minute ago. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Ruby blinked. “Yeah, sure.”

“I…” Penny held her hands in front of her. “I don’t like it when friends fight.”

Ruby sighed. “Me neither.”

“I know that our friends have been fighting. I heard that Yang said some awful things to Blake,” said Penny. She nibbled on her lower lip. “I don’t know a lot about that sort of thing, but I remember when Blake ran away the first time, when we were first friends. And I remember that telling the truth and talking about feelings helped. Would that help, now?”

Ruby sighed, again. “I don’t know, Penny. I really don’t.” She hugged herself. They trailed through the stone path of the courtyard and out into the quieter streets of Atlas. “What Yang said isn’t something you can just apologize for. She said something to hurt Blake as much as she could, and she’ll have to apologize a _lot_ before Blake is willing to forgive her.”

Penny frowned. “But they’re friends, and partners, why would she saw something like that?”

Ruby bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I don’t know what’s going on with my team, my friends. I—” Ruby blinked hard. “I’m tired, Penny, I’m tired, and I don’t know what to do, and my sister is attacking our friends, and Weiss is sneaking around, and Blake feels like she’s trying to be someone she’s not, and Ren isn’t telling us something, and Oscar isn’t either, and—” She stopped and sucked in a hard breath, tears blurring her vision as she stopped, dead, in the street. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice broke. The tears spilled over and Ruby put her hands to her face, crying quietly into her gloves.

Warmth, as Penny wrapped herself around Ruby and rested her cheek atop Ruby’s head.

“It’s okay, Ruby. I’m here for you,” said Penny, rubbing her back with one hand. Ruby sniffled and moved her hands to cling to Penny, burying her face in Penny’s shoulder. “I will help you figure out what to do. I promise.”

“Thank you,” mumbled Ruby. She took a breath and let herself smell Penny. She smelled like metal, like machine oil, and like the slight ozone of a laser weapon after it fired. She smelled like a smithy, like a weapons’ locker. Like Crescent Rose, right after she was polished.

“Yang’s so angry, lately,” said Ruby, into Penny’s shoulder. “It scares me.” And so did her own anger. She’d never been an angry person. But Robyn Hill had made her angry. Robyn Hill made her want to hurt someone just because they were there, and Ruby didn’t like them, and Ruby wanted them to shut up.

Was that how Uncle Qrow and Yang always felt?

Was that where Yang was going? To be trapped in that anger forever? Was Ruby going to follow her?

“My father told me that anger is never just anger,” said Penny, still stroking her back. She spoke into Ruby’s hair and it felt like feathers in her scalp. Little tickles that were almost like a kiss. “It’s always a symptom of something else. If Yang is very angry, she has a reason to be angry, and if you can find that reason, you can stop the anger. Does that make sense?”

Ruby blinked, rolling over the words. “Yeah, Penny, that makes perfect sense.” Yang was angry. And it had to do with Blake, and Adam, and the fact that they’d killed him. If Ruby could figure out how to help Yang with whatever she was going through, she could get Yang to stop yelling, and maybe apologize to Blake. That’d be a good start.

“I know that doesn’t solve everything,” said Penny. “But maybe it’s a good start?”

Ruby pulled away and smiled at Penny. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

Penny beamed at her. “Would you like to fly with me, Ruby?”

Ruby stared. “Fly?”

Penny nodded. Ruby swallowed.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Why not?” said Ruby. She yelped as Penny scooped her up into her arms, one arm under her knees and the other on her back, and lifted into the air. Ruby wound her arms around Penny’s neck and rested her cheek on Penny’s shoulder as they rose. She gasped, watching the street stretch out before them into a grid of lights and homes and life. “Oh, wow.”

“Look up,” said Penny. Ruby did, blushing when she realized how close they were. Penny smiled at her, then lifted her head toward the sky. Ruby followed her gaze and gasped again. The moon – mostly shattered, partially full – felt so close she could almost reach out and touch it, and what was once a few hundred stars had multiplied into a few million.

“There’s so many,” whispered Ruby. “I haven’t seen stars like this since we were out in Anima.”

“The lights in Atlas don’t cause much light pollution,” said Penny. The wind buffeted Ruby and Penny rotated in midair, putting her back to the wind and smiling down at Ruby. “I don’t really understand, but it’s interesting, and I like that we can see the stars no matter where we are. It makes the world feel more connected.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Ruby settled against Penny, smiling, and let her eyes drift half closed.

“Ruby?” Ruby hummed. “What does love feel like?” Ruby sputtered, wobbled, and gripped tighter to Penny. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

“Appreciate that,” muttered Ruby. She cleared her throat. “Um, er, why do you ask?” Had she figured something out? She looked up at Penny, ears burning, and chanced flipping up her hood with one hand before wrapping her arm back around Penny.

Penny floated them over the edge of Atlas, displaying the beauty of Mantle’s warm-coloured streets beneath them. “Well,” she said. “Because of Robyn, we know your uncle is in love with General Ironwood. It’s made me think about love, and how it feels, and I thought you’d be a good person to ask.”

“Oh,” said Ruby. “Um, I guess love feels…” She thought about it. “Warm. It’s a warm feeling in your chest, and your whole body. When you love someone, you always want to be around them,” she found herself smiling as she looked up at Penny, who watched her with a furrowed brow, “and you want to know about everything they like to do. You want to hold them, and be close to them, and do things for them, and—” She stopped, cheeks burning, and ducked her head to hide her face from Penny. “They’re everything to you. And knowing they exist is enough to make you happy.”

Penny drifted further out, leaning back a bit as she flew backward. Ruby shifted, leaning more heavily into Penny’s chest. Her blush darkened.

“So love is what I feel for you,” said Penny. Ruby choked. She coughed a few times and shook her head, cheeks burning so hot she felt like she was going to burst into flames.

“I-I mean, yeah, I-I guess,” said Ruby. “But you can love someone without being _in_ love with them. Like, I love my family, that doesn’t mean I want to kiss them or hold their hands or marry them.” Ruby shook her head again. “It’s different. Familial and romantic love.”

Penny frowned. “But…” She trailed off and sighed. “Right. Never mind.” Ruby frowned. Huh? “Do you think General Ironwood feels that way about Qrow?” Oh. Right, the topic. The topic _before_ Penny had brought up their friendship.

That topic.

“I don’t know,” said Ruby. Penny drifted backward toward the school. She must have been going decently fast, but Ruby couldn’t feel it. All she could feel was the solid warmth of Penny and the way her heart pounded in her chest and throat. Could Penny hear her heartbeat? Did she know what it meant? “The only person who’d know is General Ironwood.”

“Why doesn’t Qrow just tell General Ironwood how he feels?” asked Penny.

Ruby sighed. “He’s scared, Penny. He’s scared that General Ironwood doesn’t feel the same way, and that it could ruin their friendship.”

Penny frowned. They were almost over the courtyard now. “Fear seems to drive a lot of decisions for people, doesn’t it?”

“I think the only thing that drives more is love,” said Ruby. Penny lowered them both back into the courtyard. She touched down, but didn’t let go of Ruby right away. “Penny?”

Penny set down her legs and looked at her. Ruby turned as Penny slipped her arms around Ruby’s waist. Ruby’s own arms were still around Penny’s neck.

“What’s up?” asked Ruby, aware that she was still blushing and glad for the shadow of her hood.

“Nothing,” said Penny, sounding distant. She smiled at Ruby. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Ruby. And I promise I’ll help you however I can with your team and your mission.”

“Thanks,” said Ruby. She shifted close, hugging Penny and resting her cheek on Penny’s shoulder.

Penny’s hand lingered on her lower back, the other at her waist. “Is there anything I can do for you tonight?”

Ruby smiled into Penny’s shoulder. “This is perfect,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are deeply appreciated! I love hearing everyone's favourite parts and current theories. It makes me super excited to keep writing. Thank you so much for leaving them and for reading each update! I appreciate you all!!


	19. Outside Observations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Surprised to see me? Don't be.
> 
> Remember how last week's chapter was long? This one is longer. At 14k. Uhhh... Have fun?
> 
> I have a few favourite lines in this one. I hope you enjoy them as well.
> 
> Fun fact: there is. A lot in this chapter relevant to the future. See if you can spot it all!

The press conference played on repeat on a floating holoscreen above a Scroll, illuminating the underground, and frankly _abysmal_ , apartment that Arthur found himself trapped within. Behind him, on the singular bed the “bachelor” style apartment had, Tyrian sprawled on his stomach, playing some infernal Scroll game with lots of ridiculous sound effects. So far, he’d asked Arthur for lien to buy in-game currency _thrice_. He’d only been playing for two hours.

“Tyrian, would you _please_ turn that blasted noise machine down?” asked Arthur, massaging his temples with one hand.

“But _doctor_ , you told me to occupy myself while you _worked_. What am I supposed to do if not indulge in these ‘infernal games’?” His impression of Arthur was getting better, but that was hardly the point.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not asking you to turn it _off_ , just to turn it _down_.”

“But the game is hardly enjoyable without the sound effects.” He could almost hear Tyrian pouting.

Arthur sighed. “That is a failure on the game’s part, and not my problem, _Tyrian._ ” He waved one hand. “Find some other way to amuse yourself now, would you?”

The room fell blessedly silent and Arthur let himself relax. Finally, some peace. Perhaps now he could get some real work done.

Tyrian’s arms fell upon his shoulders, then draped forward down his chest. Tyrian’s chin dug into his scalp and Arthur’s hands fell still above the holographic keyboard.

“Tyrian,” said Arthur, licking his lips, “what are you doing?”

The response was as coy as it was smug. “Amusing myself, _doctor_.”

Arthur swallowed. Tyrian’s hands drifted down his chest, sliding into the folds of his clothing and toying with his buttons. What the hell was Tyrian doing?

“By bothering me?” asked Arthur.

Tyrian huffed. “Well, I can’t exactly go _out_ , now, can I?”

Last time Tyrian had gone out, he’d murdered a man for a coat. Arthur wasn’t about to let him anywhere near Mantle if he could help it. As much as there were people in Mantle who needed slaughtering, he and Tyrian did not have time for extraneous death. Even if Arthur had no qualms with Tyrian’s penchant for targeting bigots.

Tyrian’s head came off his, thankfully, and dropped to his shoulder. Arthur grimaced.

“What _are_ you doing, anyway?” asked Tyrian, his voice near Arthur’s ear. “Certainly, it can’t be more interesting than me.”

Arthur snorted. “Very few things are,” he agreed, tone dry, though he was being genuine. Tyrian made a noise that might have been the scorpion equivalent of a purr, his tail winding around Arthur’s waist from behind. “Mind you, I do need to focus on this.”

“Aren’t you the smart one, Arthur? Make it work.” Tyrian held tighter and Arthur sighed. Well, all right then. He could “make it work”.

Arthur cleared his throat and set back to work. “I am _trying_ ,” he emphasized the word in hopes that Tyrian would take a hint. He only wound his tail tighter around Arthur’s midsection, folded barb pressing into his hip, “to rework the security systems in Mantle. Election night will soon be upon us, and there are many preparations I need to make.”

Tyrian snorted. “What’s so difficult about stealing an election?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s not only the election, Tyrian, it is the mindset of the people. We must sow doubt and horror into the people of Mantle. Without that, the people won’t believe the election results. We want a riot, Tyrian. We want this kingdom to fall into despair. Simply winning the election for Schnee won’t do that.”

“If Schnee were _my_ leader, I’d certainly fall into despair.”

Arthur almost laughed at that. “Mantle is dumber than most, I fear, including you.”

“How much classical literature can _you_ quote, doctor?”

Arthur thought for a moment. “Enough to drive James to frustration, but not much more.”

He could feel Tyrian grinning next to his ear. “Then I suppose in that subject, _I_ am the superior.”

Arthur huffed, amused. “Well, you’ve earned the one.” He tapped at the keyboard, bringing up a dozen different screens before his eyes. There were a handful of cameras on closed loops, which were easy enough to deal with, and more security besides. The drones were harder, because they were Atlesian, but the footage could be changed in real-time, which had given him an idea for election night.

Still, how to drive panic on a larger scale? A Grimm invasion, surely, but how to start one? He had many questions and only a few answers.

“How would you start a Grimm invasion in Mantle?” asked Arthur.

Tyrian sighed. Did he sound disappointed, or was Arthur simply overanalyzing things once again?

“Hm. A few well-placed murders are always a good place to start.” Tyrian drummed his fingers against Arthur’s chest. “But then, I don’t suppose you’d let me kill the general?” Spoken as a question, though Arthur knew Tyrian was aware of the answer.

Not to mention, while Tyrian was good, no one could take James one on one at his best. Not hand-to-hand, and certainly not the way Tyrian fought. It would take quite an advantage to stop him.

“There is more to politics in this kingdom than James,” said Arthur. “And no, I would not.”

Tyrian sighed a second time, much more overdramatic now.

“He’s the only _interesting_ part,” said Tyrian, rolling his head with his eyes. Or so Arthur assumed.

“Two other council members, dozens of mid-level politicians, two separate companies that have a chokehold on everything in Remnant, and yet you think _James_ is the most interesting piece of the puzzle?” Arthur tutted. “He is only the fulcrum upon which everything rests, Tyrian, not the machine itself.”

“Ah, but a misplaced cog can destroy even the most intricate of machines,” said Tyrian.

“So, find a better cog. One more available.” Arthur tapped away at the keyboard, frowning. He lifted one hand to his mouth as he squinted at the screens. These networks were far too advanced for Mantle, and they didn’t match anything he’d seen in Atlas.

“You always have to ruin my fun, don’t you?” asked Tyrian.

Arthur snorted behind his hand. “If I don’t give you a challenge, you’ll make your own, and we both know how well _that_ would go.”

“What sort of challenge do you propose I undertake, then? You won’t let me gallivant around Mantle without a mission.” Tyrian rubbed his shoulders. “And you know my patience for politics is… _thin_.” His tail squeezed at Arthur’s hips and Arthur sighed.

“Seek out information, Tyrian. Find the weak links in Mantle’s structure. Those who hold power, those who are interested in gaining it. We already control the black market on technological trades. Find those who seek to overthrow us to restore their own structures,” said Arthur.

“And?” prompted Tyrian.

“Control them or destroy them,” said Arthur, rolling his eyes. “Frankly, I’m not fussed. We need puppets, Tyrian. Not just Schnee, but those who walk Mantle and Atlas’ streets. They can be our eyes and ears on roads we dare not cross. From there, it will be much simpler to accomplish our goals.”

“Right,” said Tyrian, scoffing. “Panic, fear, rage, the usual gamut of destruction and chaos we bring wherever we go.”

“And the toppling of this kingdom,” added Arthur. “Atlas is the strongest kingdom in Remnant. If it falls, the rest will follow suit.” He pushed at Tyrian’s face with one hand, but Tyrian didn’t move. “ _However_ , to do that, I need to work. Division and discourse aren’t easy, you know.” He dropped his hand back to his work.

“I don’t understand why you simply don’t walk into the room in a disguise and start the discourse yourself. Your semblance would certainly make short work of all this political nonsense,” said Tyrian, nuzzling against Arthur’s cheek. Arthur reached a hand around Tyrian with a sigh and stroked his fingers through Tyrian’s hair, still looking at his numbers.

“My _semblance_ isn’t a party trick, nor a particularly useful tool in the long term,” said Arthur, frowning. These damned Atlas security systems weren’t smarter than him, but it was nigh impossible to break into them from the outside. Their weaknesses laid in their internal issues, not in the walls which held them in place.

“Still, it’d shorten the timeline,” said Tyrian, and Arthur could feel him pouting against his shoulder.

Arthur sighed. “For a brief time, yes, but then it would _lengthen_ the timeline as those who were under my influence were released and became suspicious. Besides, James is well aware of the effects of my semblance, and the hangover it provides.” Arthur turned his head and found Tyrian’s face inches from his own. He raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather _not_ alert the good general that I’m alive until absolutely necessary.”

Tyrian hummed and nodded, pursing his lips. “He _does_ seem the type to hold a grudge, doesn’t he?” Then, with a little chuckle. “Are _you_ the reason Ironwood has those shiny metal parts of his?” He traced one hand down Arthur’s chest. Arthur shifted, debating if he was able to move away from Tyrian without provoking the man. Not to violence, no, for Tyrian was unlikely to attack him, but to something else. Desperation? Emotional turmoil? Whining? Arthur couldn’t be certain.

“Hardly,” said Arthur, rolling his eyes. “James’ prosthetics are a product of his own stupidity and nothing more.” He nudged Tyrian, slightly, with one hand. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

Tyrian pouted and slinked away, falling onto the bed. “Woe is me, forgotten by my only friend for a few lines of code.”

“Hardly a few,” muttered Arthur. Then, as the rest of the words struck him, “You consider us friends?”

Tyrian tilted his head and stared at Arthur. “Don’t you?”

He’d never thought about it before, in truth. But…

“I suppose if I have to be stuck with anyone, I’d rather it be you,” said Arthur. Tyrian smiled, not the creepy, unhinged grin he often held, but a genuine, small smile.

“Why, Arthur,” said Tyrian, voice almost a purr, “you should be careful, lest I start to think you _care_ about little old me.” He batted his eyelashes at Arthur and Arthur rolled his eyes once more.

He turned back to the screens. He had technology to move, warehouses to cover-up, voting places to shut down, and a dozen other things to do before election night. Plus, there was the matter of James’ military trucks that kept coming and going from Mantle. Blast, he needed another him if he was to get it all done.

But then… He cast another glance at Tyrian, who had gone back to reading something on his Scroll. He shook his head, fighting a smile. Well, at least if he were going to be working day and night for the next two weeks, he had fine company.

Even if he _was_ rather strange.

* * *

Night in Vacuo was _cold._ Far colder than it had reason to be, considering how hot it was during the day. In the city, the sandstone and wooden walls of houses both squat and staggeringly tall held the cold tight to the streets, bleeding it into the skin and bones of everyone who dared walk them after dark.

Neptune squatted atop a three-storey building, using the binocular function on his goggles to study the clusters of people moving to and from the various bars and pubs in the thin, cramped streets.

“Anything?” came Velvet’s voice at his right. She squinted as well, but her eyesight was good enough that she hadn’t brought anything else. Faunus eyes, _so cool._

“Nope,” said Neptune, shaking his head. He sighed. “Are we sure this is the place?”

“No idea,” said Coco’s voice over the Scroll. It was on speaker between them, with the volume turned low so only they could hear it. She was at the edge of their range, which was only a few miles away. Stupid short-range communication. He missed the towers. “We’ve got four bars that have been last-known locations of missing persons in the city over the last few months. If the pattern holds, we should see a kidnapping tonight.”

Neptune sighed. “I’ve never wanted to be more wrong in my life.”

“No kidding,” said Scarlet, who was with Coco. “Why are they even kidnapping people, anyway?”

“No idea,” said Coco.

The Scroll buzzed as Sun and Fox, on one channel, and Sage and Yatsuhashi, on another, buzzed into the call.

“Anything?” asked Sun.

“Nope, you?” asked Sage.

“Nothing for any of us, either,” said Coco. “Yo, nerd brain, what was it you said about these kidnappings, earlier?”

Neptune tugged at his collar and tapped the goggles to zoom in further. Despite the cold, he was sweating. Ugh.

“As far as I can tell, they picked up frequency in the last few months, notably in the times you and many other hunters would have been out of the city,” he said. He drummed his fingers against the lip of the building. “Most of them are old students of the academy who dropped out or are retired or ex-hunters. There’s probably some who aren’t reported, which is what worries me more than the ones who are.”

A chuckle, from Fox. “About what we figured out, on our own.”

“True,” said Coco. “But what makes it _more_ interesting is the Crown stuff. Tell ‘im.” It’d just been Coco and Sun around, earlier, when Neptune had given his rundown of what he’d figured out. He took a breath before he started.

“The Crown, as far as I can tell in my research, could refer to a couple of things,” said Neptune. A man came out of the bar, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the outer wall of the bar. “First, there’s an old desert gang called ‘Crown Desert’ whose beliefs surrounded the idea of returning everything to the desert and destroying civilization and returning everyone to some stupid survival of the fittest nonsense.”

“Doesn’t sound like our guys,” said Scarlet.

“Probably not,” said Coco. “Keep going.”

Neptune nodded. “Right, so the other things I found were a fairy tale from way back that talks about this magic crown that grants the wearer knowledge of the future and luck or something like that, and, the one I think is relevant, the crown family of Vacuo, which was dispersed after the Great War.”

“Crown family?” echoed Sun. “We don’t have a royal family.”

“Anymore,” chimed Fox. “But we did, just like every other kingdom in Remnant.”

“So, what, lost heirs or some garbage?” asked Scarlet. “I’m starting to think the desert war boys might be our best shot.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til we’ve figured it out, hair for brains,” said Coco, huffing.

“Incoming,” said Velvet. Neptune refocused on the view of the bar. Two more people had come out and stood across the street from the bar, under the awning of another building and hidden in shadows. All three watched a man come out of the bar and start stumbling down the road. They followed. “Looks like it’s ours. Drop the call and link us up, Fox.”

“Aye aye, Fuzzy Bunny.”

Velvet scowled. “I will hurt you.”

“Please do. It’d be hot,” said Fox. Velvet made a face and dropped the Scroll call.

“Link us up?” asked Neptune as he jumped off the roof and followed Velvet down the awnings and ledges to the ground. “What does that—”

_‘Hey, pretty boy, can you hear me?’_

Neptune stumbled and nearly face-planted into the dirt ground. Velvet caught him and pulled him upright.

“Fox?” he hissed through his teeth, staring at Velvet with wide eyes. She tapped the side of her head and let go of him.

_‘Indoor voices, friends of mine,’_ came Fox’s voice, whispering in his mind again. He sounded so amused Neptune could almost taste it. Like curry. _‘Keep your thoughts and hands to yourself at all times, mind the gap, and project with your feelings when you want us all to hear something. Welcome, SSSN, to your first official ride on the Fox Alistair experience.’_

_‘Show-off,’_ came Coco’s voice, tasting like bitter chocolate.

Holy shit. That was his _semblance_. It had to be.

_‘Dude. I think I’m in love with you,’_ came Scarlet. Papaya. ‘ _This is fucking killer and_ way _more useful than some shit I’ve seen.’_

_‘What, like Neptune? Don’t think I’ve ever seen the dude use his semblance, so I’m guessing it’s pretty shit,’_ said Coco. Neptune stumbled, again, and hurried after Velvet. The guy from the bar wasn’t moving fast, and his three shadows were closing in on him.

_‘Yes. It is absolutely shit,’_ said Sun and Neptune grimaced.

_‘You’re a shitty liar, monkey boy,’_ said Coco.

_‘Guys! Little help!’_ came Velvet’s voice. She leapt for one of the shadows, planted her feet on their back, and leapt over them, landing between the man, who was cowering, and the three shadows. Neptune dropped his weapon, shot off a single shot, and slid through the gap that formed as two of the three leapt apart.

“Can we help you?” asked Velvet, putting her hands on her hips.

“We were just trying to help this guy home,” said one of the three, a tall man in a green shirt. His companions were a woman with pink hair and a faunus man in a brown jumpsuit. They wore gas masks, which turned their faces anonymous and identical. Neptune kept his gun raised and shoulders squared.

“Really?” asked Neptune. Over his shoulder, he asked the drunken, cowering man, “That true?”

“I don’t know them,” said the man. “And I don’t know why they’re after me.”

Velvet shifted, fists up and one foot forward. Neptune would bet money she wouldn’t use her weapon here. She didn’t use it often and her hand-to-hand was _kind_ of terrifying. She could kick the head clean off a Grimm.

So cool.

“Look, why don’t you two kids just clear off?” said the woman, the slight sway of her hips shifting her into a fighting position. “These things are a little too _advanced_ for your itty bitty brains.”

“Hey,” protested Neptune. “Our brains are just fine.”

Velvet sighed. “Neptune, just shoot them.”

“Got it.” He fired off a shot, but the woman turned blurry and it passed through her, striking the building down the street. He blinked. _What?_ Another shot, another blur. Closer now; he swung at her and she shifted, outline gone and colours blending into the background. Knee to his gut and he stumbled, curled over. Elbow in his back. He dropped to his knees.

“Neptune!” Neptune groaned and dropped his weapon, arm wrapped around his middle.

Shouts, cursing, and a yelp that came from Velvet. Neptune grabbed his gun, rolled out of the way of a stumbling person, and got back to his feet, weapon trained on the three. Green, the one in the green shirt, and Velvet, were grappling with each other. The pink woman had the drunk man by the arm and the guy in the brown jumpsuit with the pig ears charged at Neptune.

He yelped, flipped his weapon to glaive form, and tried to block his attack. But his body didn’t respond fast enough, everything slowing and moving _wrong_ , and he took a hit to the chest. Neptune slid back, arm over his chest, and groaned. Probably would hurt less if he wasn’t binding.

Fucking _ouch._

“Damn,” hissed Neptune. He ducked, barely fast enough to avoid a punch, and leapt backward. Didn’t go as far as he wanted. Tried to bring his weapon up to block but it didn’t move fast enough. Neither did his feet. Everything was slower, like moving in molasses but with none of the resistance.

Semblance?

Brown got him in the shoulder, then the other shoulder. Pain blistered as Neptune’s aura tried to keep up.

“Help!” yelled the man. “Help!”

“Keep going, asshole,” snapped Pink. She dragged him toward an alleyway.

“Eyes on me, pretty boy,” said Brown. Neptune tried to dance around him, tried to keep fighting, but Brown was faster, but not in a way that made _sense._ Had to be a Semblance. But it was too hard to think. Too many hits. Too many blows. Gut hurt, chest hurt, arms hurt. Weapon on the ground. Arms up to block his face and head. Aura crackling and straining as it came closer and closer to dying.

Shitty fighter. Always had been. Never would have made it as a huntsman anyway.

Crap, crap, crap.

Ow, ow, ow.

_‘Man, you’re super anxious, you know that?’_ Coco’s voice. A flash of bullets. Brown yelped as someone – _Sage_ – yanked him away and tossed him into the street. Neptune sighed and sagged to the street, electric blue aura shattering around him.

CFVY, Sun, and Scarlet darted around him. Sun and Scarlet tackled Pink while Coco wacked Brown over the head with her purse. Neptune couldn’t keep track of the fight. His head hurt. Everything hurt.

There was shouting; there were emotions all over his head as Fox’s Semblance tugged at his brain. Then, a yelp, and smoke. Awful dark, noxious smoke that swept through everything. Neptune covered his face and closed his eyes, bracing himself. Coughing, shouting, then Neptune opened his eyes as everything cleared.

Sun, Coco, and Fox were all gripping the man, who was crying and on his knees in the street. The three shadows were gone.

Neptune pushed himself to his feet.

“What _was_ that?” he asked, groaning. Yatsuhashi darted over and let Neptune lean on him. “That guy was making me move in slow-motion.”

Sun shrugged and let go of the guy. “No idea. But that was _weird._ Coco probably hit that chick with her purse like ten times and she didn’t even flinch.”

“When she wasn’t just phasing through it,” said Coco, snorting. “C’mon dude, let’s get you home.” She dragged the guy to his feet and he clung to Coco as they started down the street.

_‘They had a ridiculous amount of aura,’_ said Fox, his voice a dry spicy that reminded Neptune of the curry that always made him sneeze.

_‘You noticed that too?’_ asked Velvet. _‘And it didn’t matter how many times we hit them, it didn’t go down as far as I could tell.’_

Together, the two teams guided the man home.

_‘How is that possible?’_ asked Scarlet. _‘Everyone has a limit.’_

_‘Maybe it was a semblance?’_ guessed Neptune.

_‘No. All three were accounted for. Pink could phase through shit, Brown was making us lag like a bad video game, and Green made the smoke,’_ said Coco. _‘Three for three.’_ They turned a corner. _‘That was something else entirely.’_

_‘Back to the library,’_ said Neptune, with as close to an internal sigh as he could manage. Yatsuhashi kept holding him up. Man, healing was gonna suck.

_‘Yup. And this time, I think you’re taking help. This shit is huge,_ ’ said Coco.

_‘Aye aye, captain,’_ said Neptune. The group kept talking, but Neptune didn’t pay much attention. Mostly, he was trying to stay upright and not beat himself up about how much he’d _sucked_ in that fight. No quips, no effort, nothing. He’d just gotten his ass handed to him.

Vacuo _sucked._

* * *

Glynda spent the night. She slept on couch, no matter how many times Taiyang argued that he had a perfectly good guest bedroom, and when he woke, she was making coffee, her hair down and her eyes faraway. From the doorway, unnoticed, Taiyang studied her. She moved like a warrior, a weapon, the same way Raven had, the same way _he_ had, years ago. But there was something _different_ , something slightly off about the way she moved, the way she looked. He’d gotten pretty good at seeing auras, over the years, but this wasn’t that. This was something different. Like the air that was tight to her figure was almost _vibrating._ Like a slight glow emanated from beneath her skin.

Was this, too, how Qrow and Raven looked? He couldn’t remember. Maybe it was because her magic was new, and he hadn’t seen her with it until now.

She blinked and looked at him, brow furrowed. “Taiyang?”

“Morning,” he said, stepping into the room. Zwei darted in through the doggy flap on the backdoor. He rubbed against Glynda’s legs before darting over to Taiyang and wagging his tail. Taiyang bent down to scratch between his ears. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Shouldn’t you be fighting in Vale?”

“It’s not much to fight,” said Glynda, leaning against the counter and sipping her coffee. Cream and no sugars, if she hadn’t changed it. “All civilians have been evacuated, we’ve swept the city multiple times for any wayward bombs or nests. These days, we’re just trying to keep the city together and keep the Grimm from branching off into other settlements.”

“Why not leave, then?” asked Taiyang. “What’s stopping you?”

Glynda stared into her coffee. “I have a duty.”

“To Ozpin?” asked Taiyang. Glynda nodded. “Why? They’re dead.”

Glynda raised an eyebrow at him. “You really don’t think Oz is somewhere out there, already reborn?” She shook her head. “Besides, it’s not as if I’m waiting around for them. Protecting the CCT from further damage will help restore communications. Not to mention—” She stopped.

“The relic,” finished Taiyang. Glynda nodded. “You know where it is?” She nodded again. “Damn.” Taiyang shook his head. “Guess you really are closer to them than any of us.” He patted Zwei’s head and stood up, moving next to Glynda to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Qrow thought Oz had moved it.”

“No,” said Glynda. “It’s still in Vale.”

“Why not move it?” asked Taiyang. He scooped sugar into the mug – three, not as bad as Qrow or Ruby, but worse than Yang and… everyone else. But no cream. He preferred it dark. “Surely, there are safer places to hide it than somewhere in a lost city.”

“It’s safe,” said Glynda, voice firm. “Do you truly believe it could be moved without _her_ noticing?”

Taiyang hummed. “Yeah, fair. Besides, it’s not like we _can_ move it, without the maiden. If Cinder couldn’t find the vault, then it’s still in there.” Taiyang snorted. “Wherever that is. I don’t think anyone but Oz knew the location of that vault.” Taiyang eyed Glynda. “Though I guess you’d know too, huh?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“You gonna tell me?”

“Why would I?” asked Glynda. She watched him over her glasses as he crossed the space and took a seat at the dining table. “You’re not one of us anymore, Tai. You retired. Live in peace; you’ve earned it.”

Taiyang snorted and sipped his own coffee. “See when _you_ say it, it doesn’t sound condescending.”

“Who makes it sound condescending?” Glynda flipped her hair out of her face and raised an eyebrow.

“Everyone,” said Taiyang. He grimaced. “Qrow.”

“Qrow wanted you to retire,” said Glynda, softly. “He knew that it was killing you to be one of us.”

Tai snorted and leaned against the table. “Qrow hated it when I retired. He knew I had to, he suggested it, but he didn’t like it.” Tai sighed. “Think he was afraid of what he was becoming, and of what it meant that I had to retire but he could keep going.”

Glynda smiled, but her eyes were sad. “You were a reminder of what we used to be, Taiyang, and of what we were all capable of.” She sipped her coffee and he waited for her to continue. “The problem,” she said, voice quiet, “is that you were also a reminder of how to stop. And none of us had your strength to pull back and realize when we were becoming the very things we fought.”

Zwei barked, wagging his tail and sitting next to his bowl. Tai pushed off the table, still thinking. He swore as he hit his coffee mug, sending it sprawling and the coffee sprawling across his arm, chest, and legs.

“Damn it,” he hissed. It was the stain more than the heat. The heat didn’t feel like anything. “Just a second, Zwei.”

“I’ve got it.” Glynda tilted her hand and Tai saw the same soft glow sweep across her eyes and illuminate around her body like a halo. The coffee peeled off his clothes, his arm, the mug lifted, and it all rolled backward until the mug was perched on the table, as if nothing had happened.

Tai stared for a moment, eyes wide. Zwei barked again. He stumbled over and gave Zwei his food, then leaned against the counter and sighed.

“Quite the gift Oz left you,” said Tai. He lifted his head and met her gaze. “Especially considering that Oz had what, almost no magic after what they gave Qrow and Raven?”

Glynda shrugged. “Oz kept a lot of secrets.”

“Yeah, they did,” agreed Tai, voice tight. He shook his head and gripped the lip of the counter, leaning back against it. “You can talk all you want about giving up and how it takes strength, Glynda, but that doesn’t stop what I did while I worked for Oz.” If he thought about it too long, he could still feel the blood on his hands, taste the copper and iron in the air, feel the way the wind and rain and hail struck him as bodies struggled beneath him. See the crash of lightning almost too close for comfort. Not that it would hurt him.

Not that much could, like that.

And the brilliant orange-red glow above him, keeping him safe.

“No. It didn’t,” said Glynda, softly. “We all have our strengths, Taiyang. There’s no shame in that.”

“Most people’s strengths aren’t in murder,” said Tai. He frowned and shook his head. “Are you gonna head back to Vale, today?”

She nodded. “I plan to.” After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “If you come with me, I’ll tell you more of what’s happened since the fall. I could use the help, Taiyang. The Grimm are agitated. Something’s coming, and I have no idea what.”

“Would you tell me everything?” asked Taiyang.

Glynda shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.”

“At least you’re honest.” He sighed. “I’ll come in and help when I can, but I’m not doing it full-time, Glynda. I need to be here when my daughters come home.” There was no if. They’d come home. They’d come home or none of this would be worth it.

“I understand.” Glynda pushed off the counter and set her empty mug down. “I’ll get out of your way, then. Thank you, Taiyang.”

“Anytime,” he said, and he meant it. She smiled at him, gave him a hug, and Taiyang held on for just a little too long, his mind awash with the possibilities of what had happened to his daughters, since they’d left.

Glynda was gone ten minutes before Taiyang grabbed his supplies, laced up his boots, and went after her with Zwei.

* * *

After seeing Yang off, everyone still riding the high of interrupting SDC operations and redirecting the trucks’ supplies to the people, Fiona settled back into their basement base, studying a map of Mantle that she kept in her semblance pockets.

“C’mon, Fi, take a break. We did good work today,” said May. She was sprawled on a cushion on the floor, feet kicked up onto the edge of the table. “Between the semblance train of awesome that was us and blondie, and all our intel that yours truly gathered, we helped so many people and they’re gonna be singing our praises all the way to election night.” She folded her arms behind her head and grinned.

Joanna leaned over and pushed her. May yelped and flailed, falling onto her back.

“Oh, come on!” protested May, where she was sprawled in the hardpacked dirt. “What did I do?”

“Your ego was out,” said Joanna, drily.

Robyn shook her head from where she was leaned against a wall, squinting at her Scroll.

“What’re you looking at?” asked Fiona, looking up at Robyn. She twirled a curl around one finger.

Robyn sighed. “Two weeks from election night? Projected numbers.” She lifted one hand to the side of her face and tapped one finger against her cheek. “We’re doing well with most of the Mantle crowd, but huge chunks of Atlas are still leaning toward Schnee.” She frowned. “Any idea where we’re running with the queer vote?” She looked up at everyone.

May shrugged. “After the press conference? Seems like they’re pretty split and undecided.”

Robyn scowled. “That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah well, Schnee does pretty well at hiding his views. S’only people that went to school with Winter know any different,” said May. Fiona winced. She’d been at AA the same time as Winter and she remembered the looks Winter had gotten, the hatred she’d faced, and the way her team, and her partner, had stood up for her in the face of it.

The girls could say almost whatever they wanted about the rest of the Ace-Ops – it was probably true – but Marrow was a good one. Had been from day one, and Fiona had never seen anything at AA, or after, to prove otherwise.

Then again…

Fiona frowned in Robyn’s direction, remembering her words about Clover. She didn’t know if any of them were true, but even if they _were_ , they were too far. She’d watched Robyn, for weeks now, tear down Clover and the Ace-Ops whenever she could, burning everyone in her path to do so.

It wasn’t right. And it wasn’t productive.

“People are gullible,” said Joanna. “That’s why the truth matters. Besides, Ironwood said that Jacques outed them against his will at the conference.”

Robyn hummed and put her Scroll away. “You’re right, he did. Scratches my theory on them being involved with each other in this election, at least for the moment.”

Fiona sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “Robyn? Can I, um, talk to you?” She shot a look over her shoulder. “ _Alone?_ ”

May and Joanna got to their feet and May snorted.

“Let it never be said I go where I’m unwanted,” said May, giving a mocking half-bow.

Joanna rolled her eyes and grabbed May by the jacket, dragging her toward the stairs. “That’s your entire schtick, dumbass. Let’s go patrol.”

“And hit on pretty girls?”

“And hit on pretty girls,” agreed Joanna, rolling her eyes. “And whatever other pretty people you seek out.”

“Hell _fucking_ yeah.” May punched a fist into the air.

Once they were gone, and the door above closed, Fiona turned her full attention to Robyn, who watched her with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.

“All right, so, what’s up?” asked Robyn.

Fiona twirled a strand of hair around one finger, trying to find the words that wouldn’t piss Robyn off. Robyn watched her, curiosity and patience both clear on her face. That eased Fiona somewhat. Robyn was always more patient with her than the others. May joked that it was due to Fiona’s soft underbelly. Fiona didn’t disagree. She knew she was softer than the others. Less willing to commit violence, less willing to damn, more willing to forgive. It was her nature. And while some blamed it on her being a faunus, Fiona would argue against that every day of the week. Faunus had to be tough in Mantle. She was an exception, not the rule.

She didn’t want to be tough. She wanted to be loving.

“Well?” asked Robyn, sounding amused, and Fiona blushed, knowing she must have gotten that glassy eyed look she always did when she was lost in thought.

“I was just… wondering why you were so hard on Yang?” asked Fiona, fidgeting from one foot to the other. “She seems really nice, and she helped us a lot today.”

Robyn snorted. “She’s Atlesian.”

“She’s from Vale.”

“She’s _in_ Atlas.” Robyn’s hands clenched against her arms, visible knuckles turning pale. “They don’t care about us. None of them do.”

Fiona frowned. “May does.”

“May left Atlas because they hated her. Because she knew what it was like to be an outsider,” said Robyn, flipping her bangs with a toss of her head.

Fiona pressed her lips together in a thin line. “What about Winter Schnee? She’s in a similar position, isn’t she? She stayed.”

“Her name and Ironwood’s favouritism got her farther than May ever could hope,” said Robyn. She ground her teeth together, visibly working her jaw. “Why does this bother you? I let her come on the mission. I let her break bread with us. I thought you’d like that.”

Fiona’s frown deepened. “Let?” she echoed. “We’re not a dictatorship, Robyn. We’re a democracy. We vote on things. May, Joanna, and I were all fine with Yang being with us. Even if you weren’t, we’d still win.” She put her hands on her hips. “And I don’t like the way you’re talking to me about this. I’m not stupid. I understand what Atlas is capable of.” She wiggled her ears. “In ways you aren’t, I might add.”

Robyn faltered, mouth opening, then shutting. She grimaced. “I… You’re right about that, but we don’t know why Yang was here. You don’t find it strange that two weeks before the election one of the kids working for Ironwood shows up to save the day and sneak into our base?” Robyn put her hands on her hips. “That feels a little suspicious to me.”

“Not everything is a plot against you, Robyn,” said Fiona, with a sigh. “Sometimes, people just need our help. That includes people from Atlas, not just from here.”

Robyn frowned. “Maybe, but I still don’t want you telling that girl anything about our plans.”

“That _girl_ helped us tonight, and she saved me from having to ruin _your_ image to defend myself.” Fiona reached out and took one of Robyn’s hands in both of her own. “Please just… trust her? For me?”

Robyn sighed, a little smile on her face. “For you? Yeah, okay, I can trust her.” Fiona beamed at her.

“Great!” said Fiona, bouncing in place. “Once you win the election, we’ll be working with Atlas, anyway. So, it’s a good idea to make friends now.” Her ears swivelled. “But I guess you already know Clover, right?”

Robyn bristled and yanked her hand back. “Yeah, I know him. _Unfortunately.”_

Fiona frowned and held her hands close to her chest. “I don’t understand why you hate him so much. He seems nice from when I’ve met him. He treats faunus the same as anyone else, he always listens to people’s problems. He even volunteered at a soup kitchen a few months back with me.”

Robyn snorted. “It’s all just a front to hide who he really is.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” asked Fiona, raising her voice.

“I know him,” said Robyn.

“Maybe he’s changed.”

“People don’t come back from that. People don’t just wash the blood off their hands.” Robyn’s voice was almost a growl. Fiona frowned.

“What are you talking about? Clover doesn’t have blood on his hands,” said Fiona, but her voice was unsure.

“Yes, he does.” Robyn clenched her hands at her sides. “You don’t know what he did. And that’s the only reason you don’t hate him, don’t understand him, the same way I do,” snapped Robyn.

“Then tell me,” said Fiona, laying a hand on Robyn’s arm. “Tell me what he did, so I can understand.”

Robyn scowled, staring at a point over Fiona’s head as her eyes glassed over. “He killed his team.”

“Then how is he an Ace-Op?” asked Fiona, voice breathless as she stared at Robyn with wide eyes.

Robyn shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Robyn—”

“We were in third year,” said Robyn. She pushed away from Fiona and started pacing around the room. “He was the leader of his team, CLVR, and I was the leader of mine, RBYN. We were good. _Really_ good. But Clover had this stupid idea that he wanted to outdo Team STRQ’s records.” She snorted and shook her head. “ _No one_ has ever outdone STRQ, not us, and not anyone since. Sometimes I wonder if they were even human.”

STRQ? Who was Team STRQ? Fiona had never heard of them, before. But she hadn’t spent much time in the culture of the academy when she’d been there. Mostly, she’d studied hard, kept her head down, and tried to help Mantle however she could. It was hard, being a faunus at AA, but it was harder being one from Mantle.

“He got this bright idea to sign our teams up for this fourth-year mission,” said Robyn, gesticulating with sharp hand motions in front of her chest. She stared at the floor as she paced, teeth grinding. “We shouldn’t have been able to take it, but because we were good, Ironwood let us.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What an idiot.”

Fiona waited, hugging herself. She’d never heard Robyn so incensed before.

“He signed us up, then ditched my team. _My_ team, as if we weren’t number one and he was trailing behind.” Robyn slammed a foot into the dirt and cursed under her breath. “And—” She stopped, bangs falling in her eyes as she hung her head. “We took the fall, both of us. Clover took his team and tried to do the mission on his own as some stupid bravado bullshit. They died. He lived. My team got punished for his bullshit.” She looked at Fiona, an angry flush on her cheeks and her pupils dilated. “You know what happened to us? We dropped in the ranks because we couldn’t take missions. Two of my teammates ditched Atlas as soon as they got out and the third is some lowly soldier. I went down in mediocrity, people _died_ , all because Clover had to play hero.”

She shook her head and bit out another curse like it was poison. “ _Fuck_ that stupid man and his ideas. All he’s ever done is get people killed. Now he’s working with children? And with a member of STRQ? Head of Ironwood’s dogs?” Robyn threw her arms in the air. “He doesn’t deserve _any_ of it. He should be down in the dirt with the rest of us. But he’s not, all because he’s some stupid, pompous heir to a stupid, pompous company, and Ironwood decided Clover would make a good fake son.”

She kicked at the dirt and growled. Fiona took a step back, eyes wide and hands lifted in defense.

“Robyn?” Her ears wiggled. “A-are you okay?”

A dead team over a macho mission? What did all of that mean? Would Clover really do such a thing? He couldn’t. He was a hero in Atlas. He was a decent person, wasn’t he? He’d helped Mantle for years, now. He was always willing to let the Happy Huntresses go when they were doing the best for Mantle. How many times had he let them move Dust under soldiers? How many times had he vouched for one of them? How many times had he broken Fiona, or May, or Joanna, out of jail when they’d been unlawfully arrested?

“Robyn…” Fiona trusted Robyn more than anyone else. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be part of the Happy Huntresses. But something about the way Robyn spoke, about the missing details, had Fiona frowning.

“He doesn’t deserve his place, and he certainly doesn’t deserve the loyalty he inspires,” said Robyn. She folded her arms and scowled. “I don’t know what Ironwood was thinking, hiring him for what he does.”

Fiona took a step forward, and when Robyn didn’t react, took another. “Why not ask him? The election is soon, Robyn. You’re going to win, and when you do, you can ask him whatever you want.”

“Assuming he tells the truth?” Robyn raised both eyebrows.

“We both know you can ensure he does.” She laid a hand atop one of Robyn’s. “And I think, if you want them to trust you, you should employ a little of that, yourself.”

“I trust all of you,” said Robyn. “And I trusted the girl, didn’t I?”

“Her name is Yang,” said Fiona, lifting her chin to look Robyn in the eye. “And she trusted us, too, when she came here. She trusted us when we asked for her help, and when we said we were doing the right thing.”

“We were.”

Fiona scowled. “She didn’t know that. She didn’t know any of us. But she trusted us, because we gave her reason to. If we do the same with others, they’ll trust us too.”

“Sounds naïve to me,” said Robyn, snorting.

“Maybe,” conceded Fiona, “but maybe not. Just… give it a shot? You don’t know everyone’s stories, Robyn. Just because you can tell when someone is lying or telling the truth doesn’t mean you know the reasons behind the words.” Fiona pulled back her hand and brushed her hair from her face.

“I don’t have a reason to trust them,” said Robyn.

“Neither do they,” said Fiona, “when it comes to you.”

“I’m doing the right thing!”

“And that’s what they think, too.” Fiona hugged herself. “But maybe instead of picking fights, we should be building bridges. Saving Mantle is going to need more than the four of us and a council seat. It’s going to need money, people, infrastructure. Things we can only get with help from others.”

Robyn frowned and folded her arms. “The only way I’m going to trust them is if I’m given proof that they’re trustworthy, Fiona.”

A banging as May sprinted down the stairs. “Girls, you’ve gotta see this,” she said, before rushing back up the stairs. Exchanging a look, Fiona and Robyn followed after her and stepped out into the alleyway, then into the main street.

The winds picked up the closer they came and Fiona watched, eyes wide, as several Atlas transport ships landed in the empty street.

“Be ready,” said Robyn, lifting her wrist-mounted crossbow. “We don’t know what’s coming.”

The pilot in the closest ship looked civilian, not military. Or if he was military, he wasn’t dressed like it. Fiona watched, brow furrowed.

The cargo bay doors opened, one after the other, on all the ships and Fiona gasped.

Boxes. Dozens of labelled boxes that said they held food, water, Dust, clothing, tools, and so much more. A handful of unarmed military personnel were in the ship and, at the head, was Vine Zeki.

He stepped off the ship and smiled at Robyn. “Your supplies, Miss Hill,” he said, nodding his head. “As promised.” She bowed and stepped to the side as Robyn and the others hurried forward. Fiona was at her side as Robyn cracked open a box. Dust. Another, clothing and textiles. Another, tools and machinery.

“This is more than we had,” said Robyn, shock evident in her voice. “This has to be three times what he took.”

Fiona put a hand on Robyn’s arm and smiled. “Is that proof enough?”

Robyn smiled in return, crooked. “It’s a start.” She clapped her hands together. “All right, spread out and get some people to help. We’ve got a lot to move. See if the Atlesians are willing. Let’s move, people!”

Fiona hurried over to the soldiers to explain they needed help and guided them as everyone started carting boxes off the ship.

As the supplies stacked up, she found herself giddy.

Robyn was right.

This was a start. A great one.

* * *

Marrow hesitated, tail low between his legs and arms wrapped around himself as a shield. The tall, pale building loomed above him, its steel face and glass eyes telling him he did not belong. Stone cut generations ago was etched with sculptures and carvings, pillars that held up the severe awning.

Clover’s apartment building. As gorgeous as it was terrifying. And a place Marrow absolutely did not belong. Hell, he’d had to double-check faunus were even _allowed_ in this building. The answer was yes, but only since the building was bought out by new management, two years ago. He made a quiet noise in his throat, not a whimper, because he _didn’t_ whimper, and tried to look less nervous than he felt as he approached the building.

The doorman raised an eyebrow at Marrow and Marrow shrunk under his gaze.

“Um,” said Marrow.

“Good evening,” said the man, inclining his head. “May I help you?” There was a definite ‘are you lost’ in his tone that made Marrow wince and want to bristle, but he couldn’t afford to bristle. He needed this guy to like him enough to let him into the building.

“I’m here to see a resident, Clover Ebi?”

“Your business?” asked the doorman, raising his other eyebrow.

“I’m his co-worker, um, Marrow.” Marrow swallowed. “I wanted to talk to him about… work stuff.” Technically true. But oh, that did not sound convincing.

The man hummed. “Marrow Amin?”

Marrow blinked. “Yeah. That’s me.” His tail lifted and he fought a grimace.

The doorman smiled. “You do good work, son. I have friends, in Mantle, you’re their favourite soldier.”

Marrow’s tail wagged.

“Really?” he asked.

The doorman nodded. “Really,” he agreed. “You’re on Clover’s team, yes?” Marrow nodded, though he figured it was rhetorical. “All right then, go on up. I’ll buzz you in.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Marrow, nodding. He only just managed to keep himself from running as he darted into the main lobby and toward the elevator.

Everything was so _fancy_. From the gleaming fireplace to the gleaming tiled floor, to the fancy embroidered runner, to the elegant couches, to the artwork on the walls. Marrow felt out of place, and looked it too, even in his best civvies.

He pushed the button for the fourth floor and rocked back and forth on his heels as he tried not to stare into his reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator. He’d done his hair up into a cleaner bun than usual, brushed his teeth and scrubbed under his nails, all to try and fit in better. But as long as his tail was visible, he wouldn’t belong, and the thought made both it and him droop.

The elevator dinged and Marrow walked down the pristine hallway with its wooden floors and embroidered runner to a door near the end of the hall. Once there, he rapped on it and waited for Clover, hoping he was home.

And dressed.

Clover gave Marrow a flat look when he answered the door. With a sigh and a drooping of his shoulders, he stepped back and let Marrow come into his apartment. Marrow nodded, grateful, then stared, jaw dropping, as he looked around Clover’s apartment.

It was _nice._ Nicer than anything Marrow had ever lived in. Nicer than anywhere he’d ever been allowed in, bar official buildings or for official business. A big, wide open space with a sectional couch deep enough to sleep on and several oversized beanbag chairs facing a fireplace – electric, by the smell. The kitchen was sprawled to the right, its island decorated with dirty dishes and its stools tucked haphazardly under the lip. Beer bottles scattered across the various surfaces, as well as take-out containers in various states of greasy and empty.

His Scroll was tossed onto the coffee table in the living space, the holoscreen glowing in the air and showing a handful of live mission feeds.

The door clicked shut behind Marrow and he jumped, wincing when he turned to face Clover, who watched him with tired eyes and folded arms.

“What are you doing here?” asked Clover. He lifted one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a quiet sigh.

Marrow frowned, tail and shoulders sagging. “Hi Clover, good to see you too.”

Clover sighed a second time. “Hi, Marrow. Don’t pull that. We talked to each other a couple hours ago.”

Marrow’s frown deepened. “I wouldn’t call what we did earlier ‘talking’.” He used air quotes for it and took no small amount of pleasure when Clover winced. Marrow folded his arms. “You and Harriet argued, then you yelled at me, then you left to get laid.” He raised an eyebrow. “There a guy in here I don’t know about?”

Clover was in sweatpants and a tank top, which was about how much skin he usually showed, but seeing him so underdressed compared to Marrow, who wore a button-down and nice jeans, because he had to dress nice to not get accosted in Atlas, was strange. Still, the shirt was just a little too small, and it clung to his body in a way that his uniform didn’t. And every time he lifted his arms there was a thin line of pale skin between the white of the tank and the grey of the pants that drew Marrow’s eye.

It was _stupid_ how pretty Clover was. Stupid and distracting. Ugh.

“No,” said Clover, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, just because everyone _thinks_ I’m a massive slut doesn’t mean I can’t spend a night at home.” He raised an eyebrow at Marrow. “Is that why you came here? Wanted tips on how to seduce guys?”

Marrow flushed. “No! No. That’s not… no.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um. I…” This was a dumb idea. He was the newest, youngest member of the team. Why would Clover listen to him if he wouldn’t listen to Harriet, who seemed to be his rock? “I wanted to check on you.” There, he’d said it.

Clover raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you’re not okay,” said Marrow. “You’re shaky, you’re off-balance, you’re upset, and something is bothering you. I thought it was just the anniversary, but it’s not.” Marrow folded his arms. “You’ve been off since Harriet made fun of you in the training room, and it keeps getting worse.”

Clover scowled. “I’m fine. I can keep working.”

“No, you’re not. And no, you can’t. You’re screwing up call-outs, messing up training, and you haven’t even tried to tackle how bad the kids are doing,” said Marrow, taking a step back as Clover stepped forward.

Clover stepped forward again. And again. “So, what, this is about the team?” He snorted. “If you’re so worried about the dynamic, why not just listen to Harriet? Everyone else is!”

“I don’t want Harriet as a leader!” shouted Marrow, standing his ground. They were a foot apart, maybe a foot and a half. “I want _you_. You’re my leader. You’re my friend. You’re the whole reason I wanted to join the Ace-Ops.” A low growl built in his throat. “So don’t pretend I’d just cast you aside for someone else. I don’t want anyone else.” He stepped forward and they were almost nose to nose. “I want _you_ , Clover. And if that means I have to put you back together myself, so be it.”

Clover’s face faltered, expression and eyes flickering. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall.

“What do you know about me?” snapped Clover. “You want me as your leader? You don’t even _know_ me. You don’t know what I’ve done. You don’t know who I am.”

“Then tell me,” said Marrow, baring his teeth. “Tell me so I understand. Tell me so I can _help._ ”

“You won’t want to help me.”

Marrow growled. “Don’t tell me what I want.”

“Fine.” Clover’s word was closer to a bark than Marrow ever neared. “You wanna know what’s been bothering me? History, Marrow, fucking history.” He stomped passed Marrow, shoving their shoulders together, and stalked toward the couch. Spinning around, Clover threw his hands out. “Everything I am is built on blood, and luck, and bullshit. And it took meeting those kids, seeing Remnant’s future, to realize that I can’t help them.” Clover stared at Marrow with despair clear on his face. His voice cracked as he spoke. “I _can’t_ save them, Marrow. Last time I worked with people their age, I got them killed.” The tears fell and Clover collapsed onto his couch, head in his hands and arms braced on his knees. “I got them all killed.”

Marrow crossed the space and sat down on the couch next to Clover. He hesitated, reaching out with one hand, then took a breath and squeezed Clover’s shoulder.

“Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault,” said Marrow, softly. He knew a little of what Clover was talking about. Team CLVR, the team that never graduated. Clover was the only one to live to graduation. The other three had died in third year. Depending on who you asked, Clover was at fault or Clover was a victim. Marrow had never paid much attention to the rumours. This week had been the anniversary of their deaths.

“Yeah, it was,” said Clover, with a bitter laugh. “When I was in third year—my team—we were… good.” Clover swallowed. Marrow squeezed his shoulder and stayed silent. “Really good. I wanted us to be the next STRQ.” STRQ. That was Qrow’s old team. He’d mentioned them before, but it wasn’t until now that things started to click into place. “So, I used my luck, and my golden tongue, to do what I did best back then: lie.” Marrow’s eyebrows shot up. Lie? Clover could _lie_? Clover was a shitty liar! The worst Marrow knew.

Clover gave him a bitter smile. “Yeah. I know. I’ll get there.” He took a deep breath and kept going. “Robyn and I were rival leaders, our teams traded back and forth on who was number one based on the week. I knew that if I had her team with me, Ironwood would let us do anything. So, I found the most dangerous mission I could and…” He grimaced. “I signed us both up for it. It was a multi-team fourth year mission, but Ironwood approved it.”

“Okay…” Marrow wasn’t sure where this was going.

Clover sighed, shoulders drooping from the weight of his words. “Except I lied to Robyn. I pulled down the mission briefing by forging her signature to say she’d downloaded it, then I sent her a fake one. I lied about the pick-up location and time and I lied to my team and told them she’d ditched us.”

Marrow held his breath. _Oh no._

“So we went on our own, on top of the world, and it all went to shit.” Clover shook his head, tears clear in his eyes as his lips trembled and his nose quivered. “Marrow, it was _bad._ ” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “We were handling shit out in the tundra, down in the tunnels. There was an earthquake. We got trapped with the Grimm. They…” Clover closed his eyes, a pair of tears trailing down his face. “They slaughtered us. Tore my team to pieces. I got knocked out, don’t know what hit me. When I woke up, I was on an airship. Robyn figured out what happened and found us.” Clover opened his eyes and stared into Marrow’s. “I was the only survivor. And—” He swallowed, voice breaking. “To this day, I think the only reason I survived was because of my semblance.”

“Clover…” Marrow hesitated, unsure.

“I haven’t been able to lie since that day, you know that?” whispered Clover.

He laughed, bitter, sharp, echoing in the space. There were no pictures of people in his apartment. Not a graduation photo, not a team photo, not even a photo of the Ace-Ops. Even Marrow’s little hole in the wall had pictures. But Clover’s walls were bare.

“There are two people I’ve told the full story to, before you. Ironwood, and Harriet.” Clover shifted back from Marrow and pulled one leg to his chest, hugging it, and resting his chin upon his knee. “Harriet doesn’t blame me. Or, I thought she didn’t. Tonight proved differently.”

Marrow nodded, still stunned.

“And General Ironwood saved my life,” whispered Clover. “I didn’t want to live after what I did. I wanted to just curl up and disappear. He pulled me out, gave me purpose, made sure I could graduate, and shaped me into who I am – the leader of the Ace-Ops.” He sighed. “I thought, maybe, if we were all good, if I was the best, if I never stepped out of line, then it couldn’t happen again. I swore to never do something like that again. But I can’t control my semblance, and it only works on me, not on anyone else. What if I get lucky and something awful happens? What if I leave everyone else behind?”

“You’re worried history will repeat itself,” said Marrow, scooting closer to Clover. Clover nodded, eyes blank. “Clover. That’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re not the same person you were in school.” Marrow put a hand atop Clover’s. “And neither are we. We can handle ourselves, and so can the kids. Just because you lead us doesn’t mean we’re doomed, and it doesn’t mean they are, either. They’ve survived a lot. We’ve _been_ in those tunnels, Clover. Nothing has happened to us.”

Clover shook his head. “Not the mining tunnels. Another set. But Qrow said…” He frowned. “It doesn’t matter.” It probably did, but that wasn’t the point. They had other topics.

“And Clover, I stand by what I said,” said Marrow, sliding his hand up to rest against Clover’s cheek. Clover lifted his gaze to stare at Marrow, and Marrow was struck by how vulnerable he looked. How small. How lonely. “It’s not your fault. You did something stupid, you made a mistake, and you got in over your head. But your team was with you. They wanted to do it as much as you did.”

“They’re not here to hear that, though, and I am,” whispered Clover.

“I know,” said Marrow. “But you’re here. And maybe you made a mistake in the past, but I think it’s pretty clear you changed after that night.” He lifted his hand and carded it through Clover’s hair. It was soft, far softer than Marrow expected. He’d always thought it’d be full of hairspray or gel of some sort. “And it doesn’t have to destroy you.”

Clover sighed. “You know something about tragic backstories?”

“My parents died when I was kid,” said Marrow, softly. “A riot in Mantle. They were killed by soldiers. That was the last violent riot of Mantle, you know that? After, Ironwood stepped in and changed all the rules.” He frowned. “I spent my childhood in group homes, stealing whatever I needed to survive. And maybe it isn’t the same, but I think I know something about despair and loneliness. And I know you don’t have to be alone.”

Clover stared at him. “You think?”

“Yeah,” said Marrow, softly. “I do.”

Clover nodded, then whispered, “Thank you.”

“Can you be our leader again?” asked Marrow, still stroking Clover’s hair. “We kind of need you, man. You’ve got a head for strategy that none of us do, and you can sweet talk your way into anything.” He winced. “Plus, I think the kids need some guidance. They’re really messed up, dude. I think they’re fighting more than we are.” Marrow sighed. “From what you’re saying, you might understand them better than the rest of us.”

Clover winced. Then, “Yeah, I can try. I…” He grimaced. “It’s why Robyn hates me, y’know. She blames me.”

Marrow nodded.

Clover sighed. “I really screwed things up, didn’t I?”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t fix them,” said Marrow, smiling at him.

And Clover smiled back, small, wobbly, unsure, but there all the same. “Okay. Then let’s fix them.”

* * *

Whitley had never been afraid of the dark. Daylight came with arguments and snarling, fights and strikes. Dusk came with the smell of whiskey and the heaviness of a hand upon his shoulder, fingers squeezing tight. But night, when the darkness fell completely and silenced all? That time was his. The house slept, the monster snored behind the closed doors of his lair, and as long as Whitley was light on his feet, he wouldn’t wake the beast.

Tonight, his night came with a purpose. After the horrors that had risen with the final words spoken at Ironwood’s press conference, Whitley had retreated to nurse his wounds, both physical and mental. It felt strange, to let his aura heal his wounds. He didn’t have a good grasp on it yet, but his father hadn’t noticed how quickly the bruises had faded. He was probably grateful, really. Whitley had never been a healthy kid. Always sickly to some degree. Yet, with his aura, it seemed lessened. Not gone, but lessened.

Since the night Weiss had visited, Whitley had watched himself in the mirror when he tried to heal himself. He loved watching the way his aura, a pale, silvery blue, rippled across his skin like spider silk. It made him feel strong, powerful, and connected to his sisters.

Mixed feelings, to be certain.

Whitley crept through the darkened hallways of the manor, listening for every squeak of the floor, every whistle of the wind, every tiny noise that could warn him that someone was coming. After how much Father had drank, earlier, Whitley doubted he’d waken in the next ten hours or so, but it never hurt to be careful.

_Ever._

Mother’s room was deeper into this wing of the manor than his own. The door, elegantly carved, had always seemed huge to Whitley, otherworldly, but as he approached it, it seemed small, worn, and he could spy the areas where the paint was worn and cracked and had never been repaired.

He frowned. Why hadn’t she had it repaired? Surely, someone in the house knew how to paint. Surely, the door could be fixed.

Whitley pushed open the door, slow and careful, without knocking. He doubted Mother would hear him even if he did knock.

Her room was what he remembered. Dark, gloomy, smelling of alcohol and despair. Mother was sprawled on a fainting couch, staring out the glass doors that led to her balcony. The moon stared back at her, shattered. It felt fitting, all things considered.

“Mother?” Whitley approached her on light, hesitant feet. He didn’t know if she was conscious, despite her open eyes, or lucid, even if she was. It was late, and while there were no bottles in her hands, there were several scattered at the couch’s feet.

“Whitley?” Her voice was soft as she looked at him. Her eyes were as focused as he’d seen them in months, a hint of the woman he remembered from his toddler years staring out at him. Whitley swallowed and pushed down his hope. There was no point in hope. He was alone. For all Weiss spoke of being his saviour, she didn’t live under Father any longer. He did. Mother did.

He was alone, even if they had each other.

“What are you doing here?” Mother rubbed the bridge of her nose and grimaced. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” A genuine question. Whitley was used to it.

He sighed. “Probably,” he agreed. “I… wanted to talk to you, about something Father is doing.”

“Is this about the sleeping pills he’s been putting in my wine?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Whitley blinked. “Yes, I’m… aware. I wish I could say I noticed sooner, but it was only last night that I put the pieces together.” She gestured to the bottles around her. “Hence, full bottles.” Several of them were still corked. Whitley nodded.

“That’s… good?” he tried. Less drinking was good. No drinking would be better. If she was sober, they could talk, they could survive as a team, rather than as separate units. But that was wishful thinking. If Winter and Weiss leaving hadn’t been enough to drag her out of the darkness, why would he? He was nothing compared to them. No special powers. No training. No strength to fight back.

What could he do that they couldn’t?

Mother squinted at him, turning where she sat, and reached out toward his face. Her fingers stopped before they brushed him and he held his breath, wishing she’d reach further. Weiss’ had been the first kind touch he’d felt in months, since Klein had been forced out.

“What happened to you?” she asked, voice barely a whisper.

Whitley flinched away from her. “Shouldn’t you know? He’s _your_ husband.” He looked away from her, seeing the fall of her expression in his peripheral vision. “Though I suppose ignorance _is_ bliss.”

“Oh,” said Mother, voice small. “I’m so sorry. I hadn’t realized.”

“You don’t notice most things, so it’s not surprising.” He couldn’t help the bitterness that flooded the space between them.

“Whitley—”

“Are you still drinking?”

“It’s not that simple.”

Whitley’s head snapped around so he could meet her gaze head on. Her upper lip curled back in a snarl. “Why not?”

Mother watched him with the same sad, limp expression. “Whitley…”

“If you know he’s drugging you, then stop taking the drugs. Why is that so hard?” His voice rose, breaks from puberty attacking him on all sides. He threw his arms into the air and stared at her, somewhere between outraged and confused.

“I could die.”

His arms fell. “What?”

Mother sighed and shifted on her fainting couch, sitting sideways and patting the spot next to her. Hesitant, Whitley took it, his hands in his lap and his head turned to stare at her, wide-eyed.

“He’s putting sleeping pills in my alcohol,” said Mother, voice soft. There was a tenderness to it that had Whitley aching to scoot closer to her. To be held and cradled like he had been as a toddler. A baby. “With the amount of alcohol I’ve drunk for so long, stopping it all at once could kill me. I cannot hire anyone to help, nor can I go to rehab, without alerting your father to my knowledge of his schemes. Instead, I’ve begun hiding bottles, so that I may ween myself down as safely as I can on my own.”

Whitley read between the lines and his mouth fell open in shock. “You’re going to stop drinking.” His voice was barely a whisper and hope choked his words so that they died mere inches passed his lips. She nodded. He licked dry lips with a drier tongue. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been a terrible mother,” she said, “and because you need me to be better.”

Whitley’s stomach churned. “That’s it?” His voice cracked again. “That’s all it took? I’ve spent so long being alone and now that you see it, suddenly you’re coming to my rescue?” He stared at her, anger mixing with shock mixing with hope mixing with fear. “Why?”

“Because we’re alone, now,” said Mother. She reached up and stroked the hair at the back of his neck. Whitley closed his eyes and let himself relax into it, despite his conflicted feelings. “When Winter and Weiss were here, I hoped, or, I kidded myself, into believing they could save you. That I could take the brunt of it and take his attention so that my children could escape.” A sigh. “I fooled myself, I know that now. I won’t ask for your forgiveness, Whitley, but I am sorry. I am so, so sorry for how long I’ve left you alone.”

Whitley opened his stinging eyes and found the world blurry. He wanted to rage. He wanted to yell. He wanted to tell her that her apologies meant nothing, compared to what he’d faced. To how Father had treated him. But he was _tired._ Anger suited Winter, suited Weiss. It didn’t suit him. He couldn’t hold it. Not after so long of being punished for speaking out.

“Weiss was here.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Was she?” asked Mother. “Did she speak to you?”

He nodded, blinking tears as they fell. “Yes. You were asleep.”

“I’m sorry to have missed her.”

Whitley frowned. “She… wants to help.”

“Oh.”

“She unlocked my aura.”

“I can tell.” Whitley turned his head and squinted at her. She smiled at him. “It’s lovely, you know.”

“You can see it?”

“An old trick, taught by those who understand aura better than most,” she replied. He nodded, slow. It was easier to forget that Mother was a trained huntress. That Weiss and Winter had followed her footsteps, rather than truly striking out on their own. An option he’d never had, until now. And even then, he wasn’t old enough. Even then, he knew it wasn’t what he wanted.

What did he want?

To run the company? No. To be a huntsman? No.

He didn’t know. Not anymore.

Mostly, he just wanted to be free.

“Do you have a plan?” asked Whitley.

“To protect you. To listen. To learn,” said Mother. “To take what chances I have and make them count, rather than squander them on drink.”

Whitley nodded.

“Do you believe me?”

“No.”

She sighed. “I understand.” Her fingers stroked up to the top of his head, tangling in the short strands. “I hope I can prove to you that I’m telling the truth.”

Whitley nodded. Slowly, he got to his feet. Mother’s hand fell away.

“How long?” he asked.

A pause. A hesitation. “Two weeks, I think. If my research is correct.”

He nodded. “Two weeks.” Two weeks to see if she could do it. Two weeks left alone, if she was telling the truth. Two weeks. He could handle two weeks. He didn’t know if he could handle if they weren’t the end of his isolation. “Please, don’t fail.”

“I won’t.” He wished he could believe her.

“Goodnight, Mother,” said Whitley, approaching the door.

“Goodnight, Whitley,” she replied. “I love you.”

He blinked back tears but they spilled down his cheeks against his will. He pushed out the door and into the hallway.

Two weeks.

Two weeks until he knew if he could say it back.

* * *

The flight to Vacuo was tense and awkward in its silence. Without the CCTs, radio chatter didn’t exist, and none of their Scrolls had music anyone seemed willing to play. Emerald spent her time in the co-pilot seat, watching Hazel as he flew the little airship out of Salem’s domain and over the ocean. He’d explained some of what he’d done while they were taking off and Emerald had watched, enraptured, and tried to commit everything to memory.

If they needed to run again, she didn’t want to rely on anyone but herself and Mercury.

“So, anyone watch sports?” quipped Mercury, as if sensing her thoughts turning to him. Emerald grimaced. He sat in the back, on one of the bench seats, and she had to twist in her seat to look at him and roll her eyes. He lifted his eyebrows and gave a mock pout. “No? How about books? Read anything good lately?”

“Speak your mind, boy,” said Hazel, voice low and annoyed. “If you’re trying to get on my nerves, pick a better method. If you’re filling silence, don’t.”

“And if I have something to say?”

“Then say it,” said Hazel, with a huff. “And don’t run your mouth.”

“Aww, but I’m so good at that, though,” said Mercury, half-teasing. He folded his arms behind his head and scoffed. “Oh come on, muscle man, can’t blame me for being suspicious at your sudden change of heart, can you? Just curious what’s bouncing around in that meaty brain of yours.”

_“Mercury_ ,” hissed Emerald.

Hazel snorted. “All right, you want an answer?” Emerald looked to Hazel, eyes wide, and saw Mercury do the same in her peripherals. “It’s not sudden. It’s been coming since I went on the road with you kids in Mistral.”

“We’re not—”

“Shut up,” hissed Emerald through her teeth. Mercury’s jaw clicked as he closed his mouth.

Hazel’s lips twitched. “So, he _does_ listen to someone.” There was a twinge of amusement to his otherwise gravelly voice. “And you are, to me. That’s sort of the point.” He hands flexed on the controls and he stared forward, expression unreadable, at the open sky and sea that spread out before them. “My sister died at Beacon. Ozpin let her die.” A low growl built in his throat. “That’s why I joined Salem, to get revenge.”

“Don’t know if you noticed, but Oz is alive and well. So, mission failed,” said Mercury.

Emerald pressed her forehead into the back of the seat and tried not to scream.

“In a sense,” said Hazel, nodding. “But I meant what I said, about finding a new purpose. Not in destruction, but in protection.” Hazel exhaled, and it was a somber, heavy sound. “I don’t know what you want from me. I told you my reasons.”

“Sense,” said Mercury. “You’re a killer. What changed?”

“What changed for you?” replied Hazel, raising an eyebrow, though Emerald doubted Mercury could see, even in the reflection of the glass front.

Mercury frowned. “That’s different.”

“Maybe,” said Hazel, nodding. “Same person, different reasons.”

Emerald blinked. What? “Me?” she asked. “You both changed for me?”

“What can I say, Em, you inspire people,” said Mercury, shrugging with his hands. “Turned a humble killer into a morally grey sad boy T-M.”

Emerald lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “Nothing about you is humble.”

“True,” agreed Mercury. “I know why I changed for her, what about you?” There was a challenge in Mercury’s voice as he jutted his chin at Hazel. Emerald looked between them, eyes wide. If they were going to fight, she hoped they could swim, because there was no way in hell she could land this thing without seeing Hazel do it first.

Hazel glanced at her. “You remind me of her.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. Emerald swallowed. “Hard-working, eager.” A hesitation in his voice. “Scared.” She nodded, not knowing if she should speak. “You’re not the same person but…”

“It’s like getting a second chance,” said Emerald, quietly. She understood. Her connection with Mercury was born of similar circumstances. Not because he was her family, but because she’d never gotten much of a chance to connect, before. And not having to hide who she was, or what she did, was a bonus. “I get it.”

“I don’t,” said Mercury.

Hazel snorted. “As if you don’t take every chance you get to protect her.”

“Fuck off,” snapped Mercury. His cheeks were red. “That’s different.”

“Why?” Emerald and Hazel spoke in unison, but in two completely different tones. Emerald’s, confused; Hazel’s, maybe a little smug. This was going to be a strange, strange combination of people. Ugh.

“Because it’s not about recreating the past.” Mercury folded his arms over his chest. “It’s about doing better. About proving that’s not all I am.”

Emerald found her face heating. “I… make you want to be better?”

“That’s not what I said,” said Mercury.

Hazel was smirking. “Sounded like it was to me.”

“You know _what_ brick house, I’ve had just about enough—” Mercury got to his feet and Emerald shot to hers, sticking herself between Mercury and Hazel. “You’re defending him?” Mercury’s voice cracked high and his face burned brighter.

“I’m defending _us_ not going into the _ocean_ ,” she said. “And he hasn’t done anything besides tease you.” He scowled. “Mercury _please_.”

He huffed. “Fine, whatever.” He stalked back to his seat and Emerald sighed, sagging back into hers.

“You know, I can think of a few words for what he is,” said Hazel.

“If you say ‘whipped’, _I’ll_ hurt you,” said Emerald, scrubbing a hand over her face. Hazel just chuckled. Bastard.

“Not fucking whipped,” muttered Mercury, scowling at the floor and kicking his feet out. “Gotta be getting _laid_ to be whipped, and Em and I ain’t like that.” The sharp shift of his vowels and the twinge of his letters had Emerald lifting her head and squinting. It happened, sometimes, when he was upset. That country accent mixed with harsher sounds. Like he couldn’t quite hide it in the moment.

Hazel changed the subject, for which Emerald was grateful. “So, what’s the plan in Vacuo?” he asked. “Thievery? Honest work?” He raised an eyebrow. “School?”

Mercury barked out a laugh. “Fat fucking chance of _that._ ”

“It’s dangerous for us to be in the city,” said Emerald. “There’ll be people who’ll know we were with,” she grimaced, “ _her_ at Beacon.” Fuck, why was it so hard to say her name, sometimes? Like she still had a stranglehold on Emerald’s heart, squeezing it to ooze poison into her veins. All she’d wanted was a friend, a companion. Maybe an older sister. And Cinder had twisted that into some kind of dependent awfulness that still made Emerald want to veer for Anima and try to hunt her down.

She wouldn’t give in, no matter how much she wanted to at times.

“Vacuo is for travellers,” said Emerald. “We’ll start in the city, get a change of clothes, and then slip out into the desert.” She hesitated. “I’ve been in them, before. Not for long, but enough that we should be all right.”

“More running,” muttered Mercury.

Emerald sighed. “Not running… looking.”

“For what?” asked Mercury.

“A purpose,” said Emerald. “I want to get out, stop hurting people, but that doesn’t feel like _enough_.” She clenched her hands into fists in her lap. “How do I make up for the people I’ve hurt, for what happened in Vale? For everything.”

“That’s up to you,” said Hazel, veering them slightly to the left. Far ahead, Emerald saw storm clouds. The veer would take them around the storm. “Might try to atone, might try to just be better, might look for a second chance at stopping what you started, last time.”

Mercury snorted. “That means another fallen school. Pass.”

Hazel shrugged with one shoulder. “Make your own path, kid. You’re strong enough for that.” He looked at her, turning his head just a bit. His eyes were on her, focused as she’d ever seen him. “You got us out, didn’t you? Don’t think that counts for nothing.”

Emerald smiled. “Thanks, Hazel.”

Hazel nodded. Then, after a time, “Could I ask you two something?”

“You can ask,” said Mercury, drily. Emerald rolled her eyes and gestured for Hazel to continue.

“How’d you end up with Cinder, anyway? You don’t seem the world destroying type.”

“Neither do you,” said Emerald, quietly.

Hazel’s mouth twitched up on one side. “Maybe not. But I was, once. And besides, you know my reasons.”

“I was hungry,” said Emerald, drawing one leg up onto the seat and hugging it close to her chest. “Tired. Scared. She found me and told me she could help. Offered me a way to keep living.” Emerald pressed her forehead to her knee and closed her eyes, remembering that day. “I just wanted to belong, to be safe. She gave me that.”

And then she’d taken it all away. Emerald swallowed against the torrent of emotions that threatened to spew from her mouth.

Or maybe she was just queasy from the flight and the endless horizon in all directions.

Mercury huffed. “Not a bad reason, Emmie. People do worse for less.” Then, “She called me his son.” Emerald lifted her head and leaned around the seat to furrow her brow at Mercury, who stared at the ceiling. “First time anyone called me a guy. Ever. I…” He shook his head, a bitter smile on his face. “All I was good at was killing. Was gonna do it anyway, if you two hadn’t shown up. But she looked me in the eye and called me his son. Asked me my name when I know for a _fact_ the village would have told you what they called me.”

Emerald pressed her lips together. She’d purposely forgotten that name. Ensured it had never held into her mind. No matter how much she’d disliked Mercury, when they’d first met, she’d never use that against him.

There were some lines you just didn’t cross.

“So, yeah, worse for less. All I needed was a little validation and I was Cinder’s murder machine.” Mercury folded his arms behind his head. “Stupid, really.”

“Not any dumber than my reason,” said Emerald, voice soft. “We both needed something. She gave it to us.”

Hazel cut in. “What changed?”

Emerald looked to Hazel, then back to Mercury and met his gaze. There was a glint in his eyes. A shine she’d never seen before. Her mouth twitched up on one side.

“We found what we needed in someone else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are deeply appreciated! It was a lot to get this out in one week and I would love to hear if you all enjoyed it, or if you found the tidbits, or if you have a favourite line, or if you have any questions! Let me know. <3 And thank you for reading!


	20. Wilt, Scatter, Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four weeks in a row! Yes! And this one is just over 10k.
> 
> Okay, let's talk real quick. The Rating, Archive Warning, and Tags have been updated for this fic. Worried? Don't be. There will be no sexual content in this fic that breaks the T rating. I know minors who read Weight. I'm not going to alienate them or put us at risk of nonsense.
> 
> The Archive Warning goes in line with canon-level violence. You've seen V7. Maybe you've seen V8. Think of the worst violence in those episodes. Got it? Good. That's about what we're going to hit here. I thought it was important to remember that RWBY is technically rated M these days and to emulate that in my writing.
> 
> Okay. Everyone good? Awesome. You guys are the best. <3 Enjoy.

“I want to show you something.” When General Ironwood had bumped into Oscar that morning on his way to his first class – history, which was mostly spent with Oscar trying not to fall into memories of the _actual_ events and forgetting to take notes – he’d been curious what General Ironwood wanted to show him. Now, Oscar was mostly stunned.

They travelled down the open elevator platform deep into the bowels of the floating city. It was a dark and shadowed place, with soft, glowing blue light the only break from the dark.

A long, thin walkway that seemed partially made of stone and partially technology stretched out from the elevator. Massive pillars of maybe ice, maybe Dust, maybe both, clung to the walls and stretched up from the depths. They wrapped around the platform at the end of the walkway.

Oscar stumbled as the elevator stopped, before following General Ironwood across the walkway. He stared, eyes wide, at the blue flames that flickered and glowed in stone bowls atop intricate pillars. But mostly, he stared at what looked like a sarcophagus on a platform carved into the largest ice crystal pillar, right at the end of the platform. Too high up to even think of touching, almost staring down at them. _Bearing_ down on them.

“This is—”

_“Do you think it’ll do?” asks James. He wrings his hands, fidgeting with the exposed joints of his prosthetic arm. It is a newer model, not yet covered like the old one had been. “I wanted it to be secure.”_

_“It’s beautiful,” you say, smiling at him. “And secure, of course. You did well, James.” You turn to Fria, younger then, but still older than you look. White hair and wrinkles etching smiles and life into her face. “And you, fair maiden?”_

_“You flatter me, Ozpin,” she says, with a giggle, but she allows you to take her hand and press a kiss to its cool surface. “I think it’s wonderful, James. Far better than the old one.”_

_James relaxes with a sigh. “Thank you. Both of you. I appreciate that.”_

“The vault of the staff of creation,” said James, spreading his hands. “Do you like it?” Oscar nodded, holding a hand to the side of his head. The vision must have been too fast for him to notice.

“It’s beautiful,” said Oscar, rubbing his hand. “And secure, too.”

James turned and looked at him, brow furrowed. “Ozpin said the same thing, the first time I showed them.” He tipped his head. “Perhaps they’re closer than you think.”

Oscar shrugged. “Maybe.” Was he going to lose himself? He didn’t know. He wished he knew. “Why are you showing me this?”

“I thought it might help,” said James, folding his hands behind his back. He did that a lot. Was it a military thing? “Ozpin helped me create this vault. I thought…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It isn’t important. I also wanted to speak to you. This vault is incredibly important, and I come here when I need to think.”

“Really?” asked Oscar. He walked, hesitant, toward James, then circled around him and crossed the platform toward the sarcophagus, the vault proper, that held the relic. He could feel it, the energy within it holding the world together. “You’re using the relic.” His voice was quiet, awed.

_You stand to the side, on a rooftop in Mantle, watching as Atlas, slowly, then all at once, rises into the sky. You will join James shortly. You will congratulate him, soon. But right now, you want to watch the wonders of gods and how those wonders can be asked to work with mere mortals. It is beautiful. It is wondrous. There are tears in your eyes as you watch and smile._

_“Beautiful,” you whisper. And it’s so much better than what you’ve seen this relic do, before. Far more beautiful. Far more useful. Far less horrid._

_Atlas rises and your tears fall. And, for the first time in almost a century, they are happy tears._

“It holds up Atlas,” said General Ironwood. “Of course, the public thinks it’s the gravity Dust engines, but the relic is much more reliable.”

“And it keeps the relic from doing anything,” murmured Oscar.

General Ironwood came level with him and gave him a strange look that had Oscar fighting memories. “Yes. It does.” He smiled, breaking his wrinkled brow. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Your knowledge of the world never ceases to amaze me.”

“Thanks,” said Oscar. He cleared his throat. “Who’s Fria?” He asked without thinking. “Is she okay?” And winced when General Ironwood did.

“She’s the current winter maiden,” said General Ironwood, voice soft. He looked away, grimacing. “She’s unwell, and so we’re keeping her safe.”

“Can I meet her?” Bold. But he couldn’t help it. “I mean, I know I already have, sort of, but—” It hit him like an airship in the gut.

_“Daddy. Daddy!” She has white-blonde hair, like you, and the pale skin that Salem once had. Her hair is cropped near her chin, and she wears a golden circlet in her hair. There are fingerprints on her blue-green dress, but she doesn’t seem to care, and neither do you._

_You laugh and she spins magic in her hands. Then, you gasp, as her aura flares out of her eyes, turning into chocolate brown wings that crackle with energy. Ice spreads from her feet and she laughs._

_“Does this mean I can control the seasons?” she asks. You scoop her into your arms, awe in your voice as you speak._

_“Not all of them, my dear,” you say, because you have an inkling this is what you’ve been dreaming about. “But, my dear Noelle, I do believe you control winter’s whims.”_

_She giggled. “We should make snowmen inside!”_

_“That sounds wonderful,” you say, kissing the crown of her head. “I would love to.”_

Oscar gasped, stumbling to one knee as he came out of it. The sharp taste of winter, the crispness that came from the cold and nothing else, coated his tongue and flooded his nose.

“Oscar?” James. Oscar lifted his head and his vision swam. For a moment, just a moment, he saw her. Noelle. Iris. They held hands and stood behind James, watching him. Judging him. Their eyes were brilliant. Their eyes were empty.

_This is your fault_ , whispered a voice not his own in his head. Oscar closed his eyes and opened them again. The girls were gone. The taste remained.

“Are you all right?” He rested a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and Oscar saw two things at once. Him, at his current stature and James at his current age. Him, taller, broader, and James much younger and more unsure looking.

“Fine,” murmured Oscar. “Just…” He hesitated. “Can I… ask you something?”

“Sure,” said James. He helped Oscar to his feet. “Though, I’d like you to know that I am well aware of when someone is trying to avoid talking about something.”

Oscar winced and steadied himself. “Tell you what, when I want to talk about it, I’ll call you.” He couldn’t help the quip, and he heard Qrow’s voice in his head echoing back, speaking to him, but not him.

James squinted at him. “All right,” he said, slowly. “What did you want to ask me?”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve known Ozpin for a long time, yeah?”

James smiled. “Since I was a student.”

“What… were they like?” asked Oscar.

James’ smile broadened. “That’s quite the question, Oscar.” He blew out a breath, musing the hairs on his forehead. “Let’s see… I suppose Ozpin was much like anyone else. They were kind, caring.” James shook his head, eyes glassy as if lost in thought. “When I lost my arm, as a student, Ozpin was the first to compliment me on how well I was adjusting to the new one. When I graduated, Ozpin was in the audience.”

“But they were headmaster of Beacon,” said Oscar, furrowing his brow.

James chuckled. “All four academies stagger their graduations by a few days. Ozpin made a point of attending all four of them each year, as well as attending ceremonies in Menagerie.”

Oscar tilted his head, nose tickling with cardamon and cinnamon. “Why?”

“Because they cared,” said James. “About students, about people. About the future of Remnant. They cared so deeply that—” He stopped and grimaced. “Well, you saw firsthand what Miss Rose told me. Ozpin cared so deeply that it drove them to death on multiple occasions.”

Oscar nodded, remembering the snow. The fear. The anguish.

“And they hated fighting,” said James, softly. He looked away. “They never wanted to fight. Only to find a way to end it. Team STRQ, Glynda, the maidens, and I – we were the soldiers. We did what Ozpin wouldn’t. _Couldn’t._ ”

Oscar frowned. “To hear Qrow tell it, Oz was some kind of monster.” He’d only caught snippets of it, mutterings when Qrow was upset, an overheard conversation he shouldn’t have been privy to, and a few words Qrow had told him on the road.

James sighed. “That sort of loyalty creates pedestals.” He looked at Oscar, and Oscar saw an overlaid image of James, twenty years younger, atop his current day self. They wore the same expression. “And the problem with pedestals is when they break, it’s a long way to fall.”

Oscar nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” He hugged himself. Stared at the floor. “Do you hate them?” he whispered.

“Why would I?” asked James, matching his tone if not his volume.

“Because of all the secrets they kept. All the things they did. All the lies they told. Everything that led to this.” Oscar shrugged. “Because of that, I guess.”

“No,” said James. “I may not understand why Ozpin did it, and I may be frustrated, but I couldn’t hate them, Oscar. All they’ve ever done is try to help the world. Even if they made mistakes, even if they lied to people out of fear, they tried. How could I hate someone who never did anything but try?”

Oscar lifted his head and stared at James, his eyes filled with tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I think you’re the only one who doesn’t.”

James’ smile was soft and sad. “Well, maybe we can change that someday.” Oscar sniffled and wiped at his eyes. “C’mon. I don’t think you need to go to class today. Why don’t we see how training is going?” Oscar nodded and let James lead him toward the elevator, his chest as light as it had felt in days. And as tight as it had ever felt.

* * *

It was early in the morning when Clover and Marrow came up on Atlas Academy. Marrow had ended up ducking back to his apartment the night before and returning with his things so he could spend the night, and they’d stayed up far too late sitting on the couch, discussing their times at the school. Clover had graduated three years before Marrow would ever step through the doors, but the teachers were the same, General Ironwood had been both of their headmasters, and they’d spent half the night laughing about team shenanigans.

“I can’t believe _Winter_ was your partner,” Clover had said, wheezing after Marrow told Clover about a prank he and Winter had pulled on a professor. “I can’t believe she has a sense of humour, either!”

Marrow had laughed, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m telling you, man, she was an awesome partner. I can’t believe you didn’t know!”

Now, they hurried to the academy, already late, both of them groggy and clutching travel mugs filled with Clover’s favourite coffee. Marrow had gasped when he’d tasted the cinnamon Clover had put in it, and Clover was in a good mood, despite what was coming next.

Talking to his team.

He and Marrow found the rest of their team not far from the general’s office. Harriet was grumbling about something under her breath and Vine was showing Elm something on – Clover needed to check Vine’s pronouns today – a Scroll.

“Morning, team,” said Clover as he walked in. “Can we uh, talk?”

Harriet raised both eyebrows and folded her arms across her chest. She looked from Clover, to Marrow, and back again. “Since when do you two come to work together?”

“I spent the night,” said Marrow with a shrug.

Harriet snorted. “ _Really?_ ”

Clover rolled his eyes. “Not like that, Harriet. I wouldn’t do that to the team.”

“I mean, Marrow’s the only one you _could_ fuck on the team.” She shrugged.

“Can we not?” asked Clover, voice tight. “Seriously, you’ve been digging at me for weeks and it’s always innuendo. We need to stop this. Now. And that’s part of why I wanted to talk to all of you.”

Harriet frowned. “What’s wrong with the jokes? You never had a problem with them before.”

Clover sighed. “I’ve _always_ had an issue with how weird you are about my sex life, Hare. I never said anything because I thought I could handle it.” He folded his arms. “I can’t. I don’t like it, Hare. I want you to stop.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes. “If we’re talking about things we do that bother other people—”

“I know. I fucked up. I’ve been acting like a dick.” Clover lifted one hand and swept it through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m… gonna try and be better. Talk more. Try and listen.”

Harriet nodded. She looked at Marrow. “What did you _do_ to him, man? Clover’s never this agreeable.”

Marrow looked at Clover, his expression soft. “I talked to him. Asked him what was up. Then, I just sat back and listened.”

“Of course,” said Harriet, rolling her eyes. “Gentle touch does better and all that.”

“I’m a tender boy,” said Clover, shrugging. He couldn’t quite keep the grin off his face, especially not once Harriet started snickering.

“Don’t overbake,” quipped Marrow.

“Don’t over tenderize!” Harriet hooted.

Clover looked over Harriet’s head, which wasn’t hard, and looked to Elm and Vine, who watched him with the same concerned expression.

“Is there anything you two want to share?” he asked, keeping his voice low, despite the laughter. “I’m all ears for advice, right now, and I’m happy to help wherever I can.”

“Promise me something, boss,” said Elm, striding toward him and clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Anything,” said Clover, and he meant it.

Elm squeezed his shoulder. “Next time you start to break, you text us, call us, come get us, whatever. We’ll all show up at your place with snacks, hugs, and homecooked food, all right?” Elm smiled at him. “You don’t have to force yourself to be strong. You may be our leader, but we’re a _team_ , Clover.”

Marrow stepped close and bumped Clover’s other shoulder with his own. “Little more than a team,” he said, quietly. Clover threw his arm around Marrow’s shoulders and smiled.

“Yeah. Little more,” he agreed. He cleared his throat. “I… don’t know if we have time to talk about what was bothering me.” He looked to Elm, then Vine, who raised pale eyebrows at Clover. “Before training, anyway. After? My place? We can do drinks, order in.”

“Sounds lovely,” said Vine.

Elm grinned. “Wings!”

Harriet punched her in the shoulder. “Hell yeah.”

Clover looked at his teammates, his friends, and let out a breath. “Is this really all it takes?”

“No,” said Harriet, and the group sobered. “We’re gonna talk. You’re gonna tell Elm and Vine the truth about what happened, and then we’re gonna talk about how to help these kids, and how to help ourselves.” She put her hands on her hips. “I talked to Winter and she gave me some advice. Thought I’d pass it along.” Since when did Harriet and Winter talk? Clover was _really_ out of the loop. “And… I need to apologize.”

Clover raised an eyebrow.

Harriet winced and rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. “For what I said. What you did was stupid, reckless, we both know that.” She looked at Marrow. “More than both.” He nodded. “But it wasn’t your fault, Clover. You didn’t kill your team.” She met his gaze as she spoke and Clover found himself choked up, blinking back tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered, clearing his throat. “Let’s uh, let’s go train before I get too emotional, all right?” They all nodded and made various noises of agreement. As they headed for the elevator, Clover caught Vine by the shoulder. “You got new pronouns today?”

“It’s a ‘they’ sort of day,” replied Vine.

Clover grinned. “They it is.”

* * *

More training. More training. And more _fucking_ training. Didn’t the Ace-Ops understand that nothing they did was going to whip everyone into shape in the amount of time they had? It was pointless.

Yang stood off to the side of the training room, arms folded across her chest, and watched as her teammates (could she even call them that anymore?) stretched and did warm-ups. Everyone was in sweats, her included, and they all looked as tired as she felt. Their weapons were on them, because it was weapons’ practice day, and they stood out starkly from the grey and black and white of Atlas sweatpants and t-shirts.

Their “trainers”, if they could be called that, were late, because of course they were.

Shuffling closer to one of the risen blocks to lean on it, Yang watched the others. Blake and Ren were off on their own, close enough to be in each other’s company but far enough that she knew they weren’t talking. Blake’s ears were swivelled back and folded down. They’d been like that every time Yang had been in a room, the last few days.

Nora was jabbering away to Weiss while they stretched, and the incessant rise and fall of her too-loud voice had Yang wanting to stuff something in her ears. How could she be so upbeat when no one was okay? How could she be so happy when the world was falling apart?

It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t _right._

The doors opened and Yang scowled as she watched the Ace-Ops drag themselves into the training room. Clover was smiling, and that made Yang scowl even further. Who gave him the right?

“Good morning, hunters,” said Clover, clapping his hands together. “Why don’t you all gather up? There’s some things I’d like to talk about before we get started, today.”

Yang rolled her eyes and moved closer to the centre of the room, still hugging the edges to avoid her teammates. It didn’t escape her notice that Blake was as far away from her as she could manage and also wouldn’t look at her. Yang needed to apologize to her, but how? And, even if she did, would Blake even believe her? There were some things you just couldn’t take back.

“Firstly, I’d like to apologize to all of you for how I’ve acted, recently,” said Clover. “I’ve acted irrationally, voiced out in anger, and generally done a great deal of things that are unacceptable both as a member of the Ace-Ops and as your mentor. I’m sorry. You all deserve better than how I’ve been.” He clasped his hands in front of him at the waist. “I hope I can work toward gaining your trust in our coming weeks together.”

Yang snorted.

Clover looked at her. “Is there something you’d like to say, Yang?”

She tossed a stray hair out of her face and scowled. “Uh, yeah, a few things, actually.” She pushed herself out of the semi-circle of teammates around the Ace-Ops and stalked toward him, stabbing a prosthetic finger in his face. “You think you can just waltz in here and apologize, like nothing happened? Like we’re all just gonna forgive you?”

“Yang…” Ruby’s voice. Yang glared up at Clover.

“What makes you think we want to forgive you?” She snorted. “You’re not a good leader and we don’t need you. All you’ve done since we got here is run us into the ground and for what? So you can feel good that _your_ team is the best, that _your_ team is on top?” Yang rolled her eyes. “As if.” Tired. Tired. _Tired._ Her shoulder still hurt from when Elm had wrenched her prosthetic arm. If she needed another new prosthetic she might actually hit someone.

Clover frowned. “I’m sorry we’ve made you feel that way. We were trying to train you the best way we knew how, but clearly it isn’t working.” He held out one hand. “I hope we can figure out a better way.”

Pretty words for a pretty boy with nothing else under the surface worth knowing.

Yang stared at his hand and folded her arms over her chest, cocking her eyebrows at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“What’s your deal, firecracker?” asked Harriet, scoffing. “He’s trying.”

“Aren’t you the one who started all this?” snapped Yang. “You aired his dirty laundry to all of us, so why don’t you pick a side?” Heat crackled against her hair, her cheeks, but it was her semblance, not her body. How do you set yourself on fire without taking a hit?

Who fucking knew? Not her. But she’d been able to do it for years.

“I understand that you’re bothered by my sexual promiscuity,” said Clover, stepping between them and spreading his hands, “but it doesn’t affect my work and none of you have anything to worry about. We can forget Harriet ever said that and move on, if you’d like.”

Yang rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point! There’s two guys on this team who are legal, aren’t there?” She gestured behind her, where Jaune and Ren had last been. “How long until you run out of guys outside these walls? Huh?”

Clover bristled. “We’ve been over this. Ren and Jaune have nothing to worry about. I’m much older and in a position of power over them. I’d never do anything to hurt them.”

“I don’t believe you.” Yang ground her teeth together. Why should she? People like that didn’t care about others. They tossed people to the side the moment they were done. People who ran away from everyone they knew weren’t innocent. If they weren’t hiding something, if they weren’t hurting others, they wouldn’t walk away. They wouldn’t dance from person to person like people were just disposable toys.

“I don’t know how to make you believe me,” said Clover.

Yang glared. “No one can _make me_ do anything.”

“Bad phrasing.” Gee you think? Fucker. Clover sighed. “Look, Yang. I’m thirty years old. I’m closer, in my mind, in experience and mental capacity to my teammates, to your uncle, rather than all of you. I see you as peers, yes, but young ones. You don’t register to me in that way.”

“So you’re going to steal my uncle?”

“Yang!” Blake’s voice. “What is your _problem_?” Blake pushed forward. “Are you just starting fights with everyone now?”

Yang spun. “Shouldn’t you be upset about this to? You’ve never trusted men. You don’t even trust Qrow.”

“I have a _right_ not to trust men,” said Blake, voice half a growl. “You don’t get to turn that against me.” Crap. She was making this worse. But Clover— “What is this even about? Plenty of people we know have sex, why does Clover having it upset you so much?” Her ears swivelled and she frowned, brow furrowing. “This isn’t about sex, is it?”

Yang bristled. How did she—

“This is about your mom,” said Blake, voice low, barely carrying.

“Don’t you dare—”

“Clover isn’t Raven,” said Blake. “No one is.”

“What do you know?” asked Yang. “What makes you think this is even about her?”

“Because you told me about her,” said Blake. “Because you said she ran. You said she didn’t like dealing with consequences. What has less consequences that skipping out on a one-night stand?” Blake folded her arms. “I can see the connection.”

Yang struggled to find words.

“I don’t think it’s fair,” said Blake, voice raising. “You’re taking everything out on everyone else. I get that you’re going through a lot, but you’ve done nothing but hurt us since we got here. Why can’t you just _talk about it?_ ”

“Oh, like you have?” replied Yang. “Why does everything always have to be my fault?” She stalked forward the two steps between them, heat rolling off her in waves. Wasn’t she supposed to apologize to Blake? But Blake was mad. Blake thought everything was her fault. What was the point if she wasn’t going to believe Yang? “You’re the one who thinks you went through worse with Adam. You’re the one who won’t explain anything.”

Blake snarled. “I don’t have to!” She stomped a foot and Yang saw her silhouette flicker. “I don’t have to share the details of my trauma for you to realize that he hurt me.” Her expression shifted, anger to pain to fear in one motion. “There are things Adam did to me that I will _never_ tell anyone about, Yang.” Her voice dropped low, almost a whisper. “No one is obligated to what happened to me.” She hugged herself and looked away.

Yang faltered. “I’ve shared _everything_ with you.” Her voice cracked. “Do you not trust me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then what are you saying?” Yang’s voice lifted to a shout.

“I’m saying that you don’t get to hurt people just because you’re hurting!” Blake’s voice rose as well. “Because if everyone did that, we’d all be screaming and fighting every minute of every day.” Her eyes narrowed. “Just because you think violence solves everything doesn’t mean it does.”

Yang scowled. “It worked to get rid of Adam, didn’t it?” she snapped, and she knew she’d gone to far by the way the light went out of Blake’s eyes. “Blake…”

“Fine.” Blake’s voice was flat. “If that’s how you think everything can be solved, then let’s solve our issues.” Blake reached behind her and drew Gambol Shroud, holding it in front of her, eyes glaring out at Yang from between the edges of the blade. “You think you can solve everything by hitting it? _Prove it._ ”

Yang narrowed her eyes. If that was how Blake wanted to play. If this would work. If _anything_ would work at this point…

She dropped Ember Cecilia into its extended mode and lifted her fists, growling.

“Fine.”

“Fine.” They lunged for each other.

* * *

Ruby stepped forward before she even thought about it. Saw her friends draw their weapons on each other and tasted rose petals on her tongue, smelled them in the air. She launched, blurring into red and rose and nothingness, grabbed Yang as she leapt, yanked her back ten, fifteen feet, then twisted around and dropped down, solid, in the space dead centre between them.

Both Yang and Blake were frozen, staring. Ruby held out her arms.

“That is enough!” she shouted. She looked back and forth between them, chest heaving. “What is _wrong_ with you two? Can’t you see what you’re doing?” She clenched her hands into fists and brought them close to her sides. “We’re supposed to be teammates, _friends_ , but ever since we got here, that’s all fallen apart. I don’t know if it’s Atlas, or stress, or a combination of a lot of things, but I am done sitting by and letting it happen.”

Yang took a step forward. “Excuse me? Letting—”

“No.” Ruby’s voice was a knife in the air. Yang stepped back, eyes wide, hands up in surrender. “I’m not done talking, Yang. And I am _done_ letting you interrupt everyone and change the subject.” When no one else spoke, Ruby took a deep breath to ground herself and forced everything into nice, straight lines in her head so she could speak without stumbling. Or try, anyway.

“Yang,” said Ruby, turning to face her. “You’ve hurt a lot of people, lately, and y’know, I think I understand why. You’re hurting; a lot. And you don’t want to admit it because you’re supposed to be the big sister, the pillar of strength on the team.” Ruby spread her hands. “You see all of us faltering and you think you have to be strong, that you have to push everything down. But the thing is, you do the same thing Uncle Qrow does when you push it down. You get mean. You get defensive. You attack people.” She’d watched it from day one at Beacon. The fire in the forest. The shouting over problems. Then, fighting in the tournament, fighting Torchwick. Yelling at Oscar.

It was as Ruby thought before, she might not have been relying on her Semblance, anymore, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t relying on those same emotions in a much more destructive way.

Yang looked away. Ruby turned to face Blake.

“I know there are things you’ll never tell us, Blake,” said Ruby. “I understand. There are things Uncle Qrow will never tell us, things my dad will never tell us. Things people go through that you never, ever want to put words to, because it could make it worse.” Blake nodded, just a little. “I’m not asking you to do that. You’ve been through a lot in the last year, you’ve had to make choices none of us ever wanted to make. And I’m sorry that you did. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Ruby held out a hand to Blake. “And I’m sorry that I couldn’t take that pain away. I’m your friend, but I’m also your leader. And you had to do something that I would never ask of you to do.” She blinked back tears and saw Blake doing the same through blurry eyes. “But you are _so much more_ than your trauma.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, now, choked with emotion. “And you are so much more than a killer.”

Blake nodded, a hand flying to cover her mouth as it contorted into a grimace before her lips started to tremble.

Sometimes she thought about it. About Adam. About what had happened, from what Yang and Blake had told her. About what if she’d gone with them. About what if she’d killed Adam. Could she have? Ruby didn’t know. But she should have been there. She should have tried first.

She never should have let them make that decision alone.

“I know what Yang said hurt you,” said Ruby. “And you have every right to be hurt, to not want to forgive her. But you cannot take it out on her. Not when things are like this. That’s not healthy. That’s not productive. We need to _talk_ , not yell.” Ruby took a deep breath. “Yang’s trauma with Adam is just as important to her as yours is to you. And this is something you two could lean on each other for, but instead you’re fighting over who has it worse.”

Ruby turned back toward Yang, who stared at her with wide, sad eyes, mouth fallen open in what was probably shock.

Yeah, Ruby could make speeches. She’d spent a year and a half learning how, on the road. And she’d certainly made a lot to Jaune in the early days. Then Ren, then Nora, then Oscar. And Uncle Qrow, too, on the road to Argus.

Speeches were easy, if you spoke from the heart. If you threw everything you had into them.

If you looked. If you listened. If you _learned._

“And Yang, you need to apologize for what you said to Blake. I know you didn’t mean it. I think most of us do, but just because you didn’t mean it doesn’t mean you don’t apologize.” Ruby flexed one hand at her side and fiddled with her hood with the other. “And you also need to talk to Blake about everything else.” Yang frowned. Ruby took a deep breath. “You told Blake about Raven, about that hurt, and then, in your mind, she ran away anyway, right?” Yang faltered, stared, mouth fallen open even further. “And I know she’s back, and I know she’s trying to make up for it, but her leaving really hurt you. It hurt you in ways I know you haven’t talked about with anyone.” Ruby looked from one, to the other, and back to Yang. “And I don’t think you ever told her that. And I don’t think she ever apologized, either. Not with words. Not in the way you need her to.”

She looked back at Blake. “Yang uses actions to say how she feels, but she needs to _hear_ from other people to know they are.” Ruby smiled, small, and shrugged. “It’s part of why I try to tell everyone things all the time. If you don’t actually say the words, she won’t believe you.”

Yang and Blake took a few, hesitant steps forward, and Ruby stepped back, hopeful. Maybe they’d punch each other. Maybe they’d cry some more. But at least now, everything was out in the open. That was all Ruby could do, really.

“I didn’t mean it,” said Yang, voice thick with unshed tears. “I know you’re not the reason I lost my arm.”

“I kind of am,” said Blake, blinking back tears of her own. “If you’d never met me, you’d have your arm.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry. I should have told you why I ran. I should have left a note, told someone, anyone. I was just so scared, Yang.” She blinked and tears slipped down her cheeks. Ruby sniffled and wiped away tears of her own. “I spent so long running from Adam and I watched him hurt you, try to _kill_ you.” She swallowed, throat bobbing visibly. “I didn’t want to lose you,” she whispered. “So, I ran. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Yang lifted her right arm up and touched the side of Blake’s face. Blake leaned into it, tears still falling.

“Okay,” whispered Yang. “I believe you.”

“I’m not going to run. I promised. I won’t break it,” said Blake.

Yang nodded. “I know.” She swiped a thumb to catch Blake’s tears as they fell. She brought their foreheads together and closed her eyes. “I don’t mind it, you know.”

Blake blinked. “What?”

“Not having my arm,” said Yang. Her words were so low that Ruby had to strain to hear them. “I’d still have it if I didn’t know you, but I’d lose a lot more.” She opened her eyes, and Ruby saw they were dry. “You’re my partner, my best friend, part of my family. I…” She hesitated, visible ear turning red between locks of her hair. “I wouldn’t trade knowing you for anything, Blake, my arm included.”

Blake smiled, maybe for the first time in all of this. “You really mean that?”

“I do,” whispered Yang. She shifted her head to one side and pulled Blake into a hug, tucking her chin onto Blake’s shoulder. Blake clung to her, fingers twisting in her shirt, and buried her face in Yang’s neck and hair. They were plastered together, from knee to shoulder, gripping one another like they were afraid of letting go.

“I don’t get it,” said Harriet. “Why is it this easy?”

“Because it was never about anger,” said Ruby, turning to look at her. “It was about _pain_ ; and when you give people a chance to express their pain in a way that lets them get support without hurting anyone? They almost always take it.” She looked back at Yang and Blake, who were still hugging. “Sometimes you just need someone else to take the lead and make the first step.”

It had worked with Uncle Qrow. It had worked with Oscar. It had worked with Dad. And it had worked with Clover, even if she wasn’t quite sure how. General Ironwood was listening because she’d extended a hand, not a weapon. Because she’d chosen to trust him.

Trust and the first step. That was all it took for most people.

Ruby took a slow circle around Yang and Blake to look at the rest of her friends and teammates. “I wanted to talk to the rest of you, too.” She pressed her lips together. She really wished Oscar was here.

“Should we wait for Oscar?” asked Nora, waving her Scroll. “He just messaged me. Said he’d be here in a minute. Apparently he’s not going to class today.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m _pretty sure_ school is important.”

“Nora. We literally didn’t complete our first year at Beacon,” said Ren, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How would we know how important school is?”

Nora shrugged. “I mean, I think that speaks for itself. Do you really want Oscar to turn out like us?”

“I like us!” protested Weiss. She winced. “Mostly.”

Yang and Blake wiggled out of their hug and Yang looked over at Ruby. She raised her eyebrows in question and Ruby nodded.

“Hey, um,” said Yang. “I need to apologize to all of you, too.” She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. “I’ve been a huge jerk and that’s not fair to all of you.”

“Aww, it’s okay, we know you love us,” said Nora, beaming. Yang’s eye twitched.

Ruby sighed. “Yang, please. We need Nora’s sense of humour right now.”

Yang huffed. “She could _try_ and take things seriously, for once,” she grumbled. Nora frowned.

Ruby spoke before Nora could. “She takes things just as seriously as the rest of us, she just uses humour to keep going.” Ruby put her hands on her hips. “Y’know, like you and anger.”

Yang winced. “Yeah, okay, I deserved that.” She looked at Nora. “Sorry.”

Nora winked. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

Yang choked, Nora laughed, others made noises that had Ruby dropping her head into her hands and mumbling something vague about wanting to go back to bed to herself. Harriet laughed, loud and boisterous, behind them all.

“Is Clover going to get an apology?” Elm asked, over the noise. Bit by bit, everyone fell silent.

Yang winced. “Yeah, I guess.” She turned to face him and sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re probably not a dick. You’re definitely not creepy. And just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean I can’t work with you. Does that work?”

Clover smiled. “Works for me,” he said. “And it’s far more than I expected. Thank you, Yang.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, whatever,” she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck as she turned back toward the others. “So, um, are we cool?”

“Obviously,” said Weiss, flicking her chin like she wanted to toss her hair. Ruby bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. Weiss kept doing that, on matter how many times she realized her hair wasn’t long enough, anymore. It was kind of adorable.

“I’m good,” said Jaune. “I was never mad at you.”

Ren smiled, soft, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Neither was I. I’m glad you’ve realized that.”

Yang shrugged. “Cool. Cool. Can we stop with the emotional mush aimed at me now? Yeah? Great.” She clapped her hands together. “Who wants to spar?”

“Ruby wanted to talk,” said Blake, taking a step forward so she was next to Yang again. She tucked a strand of hair behind one of her human ears. Did they even work? Ruby needed to ask. Four ears. So cool! If she had glasses, she’d have four eyes _and_ four ears. …Did some faunus have extra eyes? Or replacement eyes? Like the Happy Huntress with the sheep ears? Hrm… She smelled a research session coming on.

“Oh, right,” said Yang. “Ruby?”

“Oscar’s here!” chimed Nora, skipping forward as, behind Ruby, the noise of the doors opening sounded. She turned, and so did Yang and Blake, to see General Ironwood and Oscar coming into the training room. Nora tackled Oscar, both of them went sprawling to the floor, and General Ironwood chuckled.

“Good morning, hunters,” said General Ironwood. He looked down at Oscar and Nora, one eyebrow raised. “Are you all right?”

“ _Help me_ ,” wheezed Oscar from beneath Nora. Nora giggled and nuzzled his cheek with her own. “ _Please_.” He reached out for General Ironwood, who stared, blinking. Nora grabbed his arm and pulled it back down. She got to her feet and dragged him up with her.

“He’s fine. You’re fine. See? He’s fine,” said Nora, waving General Ironwood off with one hand. “Morning, tiny baby,” said Nora, hugging Oscar close to her again. Oscar sighed and hugged her back. Presumably soothed now that Nora wasn’t tackling him across the room. Normal Nora hugs were great. Tackle hugs? Not so much. Ruby knew that from experience.

Though they didn’t hurt as much as Penny’s…

“Morning, Nora,” mumbled Oscar, just loud enough that Ruby could hear. “What’s going on?”

“Has anyone seen Qrow?” asked General Ironwood, walking over to the Ace-Ops. They all shook their heads and so did Ruby. He hadn’t responded to her ‘good morning’ text, either.

“We’re doing emotional stuff. Yang apologized. Ruby’s gonna talk now,” said Nora, pulling away from the hug and dragging Oscar toward the ground.

“He’s out doing recon,” said Blake. “He told me last night that he wanted to look into the murders on his own.” She hugged herself. “I’m a liability in that sort of situation.”

“You’re a great fighter,” said Yang.

Blake winced and her ears flattened. “Not anymore,” she mumbled.

Ruby stepped forward and rested a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “What’s going on, Blake?” she asked, voice soft.

Blake sighed. “I… keep freezing up. Around men, I mean. I… I don’t know. It’s like I’m scared but I can’t run.”

“Freeze,” said Weiss, moving toward the others. “Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. The four trauma reactions. Fight and flight are the most common, freeze the one you tend to hit if you don’t hit those two, and…” Her expression shuttered, eyes going dark. “Fawn is what happens when you get stuck with someone, long-term. When the only way to survive is to appease them.”

Blake shivered and hugged herself. “Yeah. I can see that,” she whispered. “I guess I just… started going into freeze?”

“You stopped running,” said Yang, quiet. She stared at the floor. “Maybe that’s why.”

Blake winced. “Probably.” She looked at Yang, eyes big and soft and glimmering. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” said Yang, meeting Blake’s gaze. For just a moment, between rapid blinks to clear tears, her eyes flashed red. “It’s _his._ ”

Blake ducked her head. “Probably.” The same tone as before. She cleared her throat. “Um, Ruby? Do you wanna…?” She made a vague gesture and Ruby nodded. Right. Subject and focus change. Do what she wanted to do, before. She could do that.

“Okay, so um,” said Ruby, turning to face her team. The Ace-Ops and General Ironwood were at her back and Ruby tried not to fidget under their strong gazes. “We’ve all been through a lot in the last two years. We’ve been on a lot of missions, we’ve seen a lot of dark things, and coming here, getting a chance to breathe…” She took a deep breath. “I think it was a good thing, because it let me see something I hadn’t noticed before.” She looked from one member of her team to the next, going down the line. “We’re breaking.”

She saw Yang and Nora want to protest. Saw Blake and Ren stop them both. Saw Weiss look away from her.

Ruby steeled herself before she continued. “And we talked about what’s going on with Yang and with Blake, but there’s still the rest of us.” Her gaze focused on Jaune, who seemed lost. “One of the big things that changed, coming here, is that we’re only one team now.” She stepped forward and put a hand on Jaune’s arm. He started. “Jaune, just because I’m the only official leader of the team, now, doesn’t mean you’re not still a leader, too. You’re great at strategy and you understand people in a way I don’t.” She smiled up at him. “You’re still a leader. You don’t have to be scared of that. I need your help. And even if I didn’t, I’d want it.”

Jaune smiled at her. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Ruby nodded and moved down the line. Nora was next.

“Nora, I know there’s a lot going on with you. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be back in a place you know was your home, but you don’t remember it at all,” said Ruby. “And seeing Mantle in pain like this? I think it hurts you more than the rest of us. Because you understand it.”

Nora hugged herself. “Got that right,” she mumbled.

“And I know you try so hard to be funny and cheerful for us,” said Ruby. She put both hands on Nora’s shoulders. “But you’re allowed to be sad, too. You can cry with us if you need to. You won’t be letting anyone down.” Nora jerked forward and hugged Ruby tightly. Ruby clung tight to her and pressed her face into Nora’s hair. “We love you,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” whispered Nora.

Ruby held her for a minute before stepping back to look at Ren. She’d had so much time to think about all this. Spent nights staring at the ceiling and wonder how she’d phrase everything. Mouthed it to herself until it sounded right.

And it was working, so far.

“Ren, I…” She hesitated. She hadn’t figured Ren out, yet. Nora, Jaune, Yang, Blake, they were easy. She knew them. She knew what was bothering Weiss. But Ren and Oscar were different. They were both hiding a lot better than everyone else. Was Ruby? She didn’t know. She didn’t know if everyone knew what was bothering her. She barely knew. Except for Penny. But her team came first.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” said Ruby, softly. “I don’t think anyone but you does, really. But I want you to know that we’re all here for you. That we love you. And that you don’t have to be strong for us.” Ruby spread her hands and smiled up at him. “You deserve to talk about what’s bothering you.”

He nodded. “Thank you. But… I’m not ready to talk about it.”

Ruby nodded. “Okay,” she said. “When you are, we’ll be here. I promise.”

Ren’s mouth twitched up on one side and he nodded again. Ruby took a breath and turned. Her gaze focused on Weiss and Weiss fidgeted, tugging at her short, pale hair.

“I know your family stuff is getting to you,” said Ruby, voice still low. “And I know you snuck out to see them.” Weiss started, eyes wide. Ruby shrugged. “I’m a light sleeper.” She’d had to put the pieces together, after that brief time awake that one night. But it all made sense to her and she’d made a calculated guess. By Weiss’ response, she was right. “We’re going to help you, Weiss. We’ll get your family out and get them safe.” She put a hand on Weiss’ shoulder. “And I know you’re having a hard time figuring out yourself, right now. You’ve got people all around you who can help. Use them.”

Weiss smiled, soft. “You’re a lot smarter than you look, y’know that?”

Ruby’s smile was crooked. “Gotta keep ‘em guessing, right?” Weiss shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I’m team leader. It’s my job to know what’s bothering people.”

“What about you? Who helps you?” asked Weiss.

“All of you, I guess,” said Ruby, shrugging. “We help each other.”

“Dolt,” said Weiss, voice fond.

Ruby let out a breath. That left Oscar. And she’d even managed to say people could help her. This was great. She was doing great. Everyone was doing great. Oscar, then she needed to give her ideas to General Ironwood. Things she knew her team needed or wanted or would help.

“Oscar,” she said. “I—”

Before she could continue, Oscar jerked forward, cried out, and grabbed at his head.

Ruby rushed forward. “Oscar!” She caught him as his legs gave out. “Can you hear me? Oscar?”

* * *

_Soldiers. So many soldiers. They are injured and they are moaning and they are trying not to die. You hurry past them in the stone hallways of the keep, holding grimaces and crying inside yourself as they reach out to brush your robes._

_“Saviour,” they whisper. “Messiah.”_

_You do not respond. You are not who they are looking for. They just don’t know it._

_We are losing the war, you think. It is only a matter of time._

_You keep going. Down stone hallways and up stone stairs. Around corners and through closely pressed quarters. Fear pounds in your veins, but you cannot let it take you. Fear brings the Grimm. And you are a beacon to them, now. In so many ways._

_Ways you could never anticipate._

_Ways you did not think possible._

_Your head pounds with the possibilities._

_You push open the massive wooden doors that separate the rest of the keep from the war room. He is alone in the room, hunched over a map of Sanus that was scattered with small pieces worn smooth from so many hands and so much motion over the years._

_“Basil,” you say, your voice echoing in the space as the doors swing shut behind you. He looks up and smiles, thinking you are someone you are not._

_“Br—”_

_“Ozma,” you say, before he can finish. “She is asleep. This is me, Basil. We need to talk.”_

_“Is she okay?” he asks, furrowing his brow. There is a part of you that wants to smooth that brow. A part of you that longs to be in his arms. You are not sure if it is her or if it is you or if it is both. Or if it even matters, anymore._

_“She is fine. Tired,” you say, because that is true. Being what the two of you are is exhausting. Your head spins as you try to hold onto thoughts. This is so much. This is not enough. You need more but you cannot have more. If they are together, all will be lost._

_Humanity has never been further from unity that it is on this day._

_“Have you heard from Vacuo?” you ask, because you cannot stand the taste of your own thoughts, any longer._

_He nods and holds out a letter. You take it and join him at the war table. Some of the troops are in the wrong place. With a flick of your wrist and a roll of your fingers, they shift. Untouched. Basil watches, the light in his eyes bright enough to bring heat to your ears. He never adjusts to that. Not even after so long in the presence of you both. It is wonderful, in some ways, to be reminded of simple joy._

_You read the letter and hope swells in your chest. You pull it close and exhale with a shaky breath._

_“They’re joining us,” you whisper, awed. “We will have reinforcements within the season.”_

_“Will it be fast enough?” he asks, staring at you._

_“It must be,” you say. But you do not know if you believe it. This war has gone on for too long. A decade. There is no food. There is no Dust. There are no more people to spare for soldiers. If they lose, they will fall, and the world will turn to ash._

_You have an idea. But it might not be necessary. You hope it isn’t._

_Looking at Basil, you truly hope it isn’t._

_There is a knock at the door and it swings open. You both turn._

_“Your Majesty—” The figure stops and bows their head. “Apologies, Saviour.”_

_You fight a grimace. “It is fine,” you say, in a voice that is not your own. You may never hear your own voice again. Sometimes, you fear your thoughts don’t sound like you anymore. And how would you even know?_

_You fear you are running out of time._

_The figure clears their throat. “We have received a letter. Vacuo sends its medics ahead of its soldiers. We shall have doctors within the week.”_

_You and Basil look to one another. Thank humanity for its small miracles._

_“Sire!” came another voice. A man bowls into the figure. “There is a shadow on the horizon.” He looks from you to Basil and back again. “Grimm. Large ones.”_

_You steel yourself to your purpose and flip your cane over in your hand._

_“Very well,” you say. “Let us meet them.” And with a last glance at Basil, you follow the man out._

_You have fought in many wars._

_They never change._

_But this one might be the end._

* * *

“Oscar? Oscar!” Ruby gripped him tight, fear bubbling in her throat. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, a fogginess had settled over him that left Ruby staring and her hands trembling. “Ren? Can you?”

Ren crouched down next to Ruby and settled a hand on Oscar’s back. The colour drained out of him and Oscar blinked, eyes opening. He stared at Ruby, then Ren, the fog lifting on his face and confusion appearing in its stead.

“What… what?” Oscar rubbed his face with one hand and Ren lifted his. The colour returned to both of them. “Sorry. I—”

“This isn’t the first time this has happened,” said Ren, voice low. “And I don’t think it’s just headaches, Oscar.”

Ruby squeezed his shoulder, trying to meet his eyes. “Please, tell us what’s going on. We can help.”

Oscar looked away from them both, but didn’t push away from them. “I don’t know if you can help with this, Ruby.”

“We can try,” protested Ruby. “Please, Oscar. You’re our friend and our teammate.” Her words clogged in her throat and tears prickled her eyes. She’d spent so much time holding it together and now, watching Oscar like this, all of what she’d pushed back threatened to breach the surface and drown her. “You’re my brother. Let us help.”

He stared at her. Avocado and silver meeting one another. He looked away.

“I’ve been seeing things,” he said, voice quiet. “Things that aren’t mine.” He shook his head and wiggled away from them. On shaky legs, he got to his feet and turned away from them all, hugging himself. Ruby and Ren both stood, looking at one another. “I think they’re memories. Oz’s memories.”

“Okay,” said Ruby. “What does that mean?” Was he okay? Would he be okay? Was Ozpin really gone? Hiding? Were they trying to tell Oscar something? She didn’t know. Didn’t know if Oscar knew. Ozpin was so confusing, and while Ruby wanted to talk to them, to see how they were doing, to _understand_ them, she didn’t know how to go about it.

She had Oscar. _They_ had Oscar. And she wouldn’t lose him just for a chance to talk to Ozpin, again.

“I don’t know,” said Oscar, shaking his head. Nora pushed passed them all and hugged him from behind. “Nora?”

“We’re here for you,” she said into his shoulders. “We’ll figure it out, together, and we’ll help you through them. Whatever they mean, we’ll help.” She squeezed him tighter. “We won’t lose you,” she whispered.

“Thanks, Nora,” said Oscar.

Ruby took a breath and, when no one spoke, she turned to face General Ironwood. She’d spoken to her friends. Now, for the last part.

Both the easiest and hardest part.

“Three things,” she said.

His eyebrows went up. “All right.”

“First: we need a break,” said Ruby. She felt the shift in attention behind her as all her friends turned. Felt the lift in her shoulders and the square of her body as she lifted her voice with her head. “We’ve been training too hard. It doesn’t matter how much better we’re getting or how hard we work if we can’t even fight if Salem shows up.” She folded her arms and looked at Clover. “I appreciate your help, but we can’t handle this anymore. We’re breaking. We need time off.” Back to General Ironwood. “That’s thing one.”

He nodded. “Understandable Miss—Ruby.” He cleared his throat. “I can arrange for you to take a few days off.”

“We start today,” she said, hoping her tone left no room for argument. He only nodded. Ruby took a deep breath. “Thing two: when we get back, we’re changing how we train.”

“Hey,” started Harriet, “we’re training you the same way we were trained.”

“But we’re not you,” said Blake, stepping forward. “And you said that yourself, Harriet. You’re pushing us to breaking. We need to approach this differently.” She gestured with her hands as she spoke. “You guys are older, stronger, and the youngest one of you was still older than us when he _started_.” She looked at Marrow, who nodded.

“It’s true,” said Marrow. “And even then, I’d only be a Specialist for a little over a year and training to join you guys still _sucked._ ” Marrow folded his arms. “Blake and Ruby have a point, Hare. We’re killing them.”

Harriet sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” She scrubbed her hands through her fringe and shrugged. “Boss man?”

“There’s no rule that says we have to train them one way,” said Clover. “And Ruby is right. If Salem showed up tomorrow, none of them would be in any shape to fight. We need to change tactics.” He looked at Ruby and smiled. “Just as soon as you all get back from a break.”

Ruby nodded.

“And the third thing?” She jumped as Uncle Qrow strolled up to General Ironwood. “Sorry, got here a minute ago and didn’t want to interrupt.” There was blood drying on the rolled cuffs of his pants. The training room keyed into his aura and the display above them all showed him in the yellow. Not his blood.

Ruby’s stomach rolled.

“The truth,” she said. “No more secrets.” She met General Ironwood’s gaze, then Uncle Qrow’s, then Clover’s. “You’ve all done things. General Ironwood and Uncle Qrow were and are members of Ozpin’s inner circle. Clover’s upset about something that I can’t figure out.” She folded her arms. “I want the truth. Maybe not all at once, but I want it. I want to know what you’ve done.” She lifted her chin. “We told you our secrets. It’s time to tell us yours.” The ones they could anyway. There were things they’d never tell them, and that was fine. It was the same as Blake, only different. Ruby could accept that.

But she needed more than what she had. They all did.

General Ironwood and Uncle Qrow exchanged a look that probably said a thousand things, but Ruby could hear none of them.

“All right,” said General Ironwood with a nod. “You’ve all earned that much. When you get back on duty, we’ll talk. Pieces of it at a time, mind you. To tell it all at once would take…”

“Days,” said Uncle Qrow, tone somewhere between dry and exhausted. “And we won’t tell you it all. There are some things no one needs to know about us.” A shadow passed over his face. “About me.”

“But—” started Yang.

Blake stepped in front of her. “That’s okay. I understand.” Yang narrowed her eyes for a moment, them grimaced and looked away, clearly realizing something.

Uncle Qrow cleared his throat and said, “And as the second-in-command, might I make a suggestion?” General Ironwood nodded. “War or not, the Ace-Ops are exhausted too. Let them drop off the map for a day or two, same time as the kids. We all come back fresh and swinging.”

“But—” started Clover, and all his teammates glared at him. He winced. “You’re right. A break would be nice.”

“Excellent,” said General Ironwood with a nod. “Is that satisfying, Ruby?”

She looked at Clover, eyebrows up.

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ll tell you all everything.” He looked at Yang. “Hopefully it’ll help.”

“Hopefully,” replied Yang, tone neutral.

Oscar stuck up his hand and Ruby fought a snicker.

“Yes, Oscar?” asked General Ironwood, sounding amused.

“Do I still have to go to school?” he asked.

“Yes,” said almost everyone at once.

He slumped. “I hate being a kid.”

“Enjoy it,” said Ruby, before she could stop herself. “You never know when it’ll end.”

He smiled at her, sad. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I guess you’re right.”

“Great,” said Uncle Qrow, voice echoing slightly. “Everyone settled? Good. Let’s all go back to _bed_.” He led the group out of the training room and they all split off, Ace-Ops in one direction, General Ironwood and Uncle Qrow in another, and RRAYNBOW in another.

“I’ll go to school tomorrow,” said Oscar, yawning. “I could use some sleep.”

Nora threw an arm around his shoulders. “I think,” she said, voice uncharacteristically soft, “that we should all drag out mattresses together and have another slumber party.”

“Yeah,” said Ruby, looking at everyone. “I think that’s a great idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading, and if you feel up to leaving a comment, no matter the length, please let me know. Favourite part? Favourite line? Things you're excited about? Wild and wacky theories? Anything that seems odd or strange or not quite right? Let me know! I love it all. <3 See you again soon!!


	21. Circles, Snacks, and a Deck of Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: gender (not as simple as you think), semblances (both known and not), discussions of feelings (time to get sappy), and my continued attempts at dragging every character in RWBY that I love into this fic (which is almost all of them).
> 
> I was doing really well with keeping up with weekly updates. Then this chapter happened. This chapter is just over 20,000 words. So, it's sort of like getting two at once, right? Right?
> 
> I know it'll take a long time to read. Don't worry about it. <3

With the mattresses still sprawled around the room from the previous night’s sleepover, Ruby took the initiative for the next step in her plan entitled ‘RRAYNBOW Takes a Staycation’. She pilfered snacks from the stores surrounding Atlas Academy, paying for it with her fancy new wages from being a licensed huntress, and returned to the dorm in record time. Everyone was still in their sweats and pyjamas, despite it being almost dinner time, and they looked up when Ruby came in.

“Ooh, candies!” said Nora, wiggling her fingers. Ruby zipped them up onto the top bunk furthest from Nora, dug out the bowl she’d bought from a store, and poured some of each candy into the bowl.

“Ruby, what are you doing?” asked Yang, leaning back from where she was sitting.

“You’ll see,” said Ruby, voice sing-song. She tugged on her cape, which was so cozy and warm that even in her sweats she never wanted to take it off, and hopped down from the bunks, brandishing the bowl of candy in front of her.

Weiss sighed, tilting her head back so that her hair brushed her neck. “I can already feel myself getting cavities.”

“Do we have dental care?” asked Jaune.

Nora said, “Who cares? Gimme candy.”

Yang snorted. “You would worry about that, vomit boy.” Jaune stuck his tongue out at her and Yang snickered. Ruby’s chest warmed and she let out a little sigh as she smiled down at her team.

“This,” said Ruby, holding the bowl out, “is the candy bowl of shared feelings.” Yang rolled her eyes. “We’re going to sit in a circle and use the candy bowl as like, a talking stick.” She bounced on her heels. “When you have the bowl, you’re gonna give a compliment to the person sitting to your left. Something really thoughtful. Then, you’re gonna say something that has been bothering you, or upsetting you, or is hurting you in some way. We’ll talk about it, make a plan if we need to, then you take a piece of candy and pass it to the person on your left.”

“Did you get this out of a therapy workbook?” asked Weiss, raising both eyebrows.

Ruby stuck her tongue out at Weiss. “Actually, I got it from Dad. He says it works great.” She lifted her shoulders and puffed out her chest a bit. Weiss shook her head, but she was smiling. “Okay, so, everyone make a circle. And don’t sit next to people you always sit next to! No partners!” She shot a look to Yang and Blake, who scooted apart with varying looks of guilt on their faces.

Ruby watched as the circle formed itself. Weiss, then Nora, then Yang, then Oscar, then Blake, then Ren, then Jaune. She figured she’d sit between Ren and Jaune to break it up.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” called Ruby. The door slid open and Penny appeared. Ruby brightened. “Penny! We were just about to play a therapy game.”

Penny tilted her head. “Can I join?” she asked.

Ruby blinked. “Um, sure? I mean, do you have any unsorted trauma or problems you wanna talk about?”

Penny looked thoughtful. “Yes,” she said after a moment, nodding. “I do.”

That… was unexpected.

Ruby gestured. “Grab a seat.” Penny settled between Ren and Jaune, leaving Ruby floundering where she should sit. Weiss rolled her eyes, grabbed Ruby by the wrist, and yanked her down on her right. Ruby yelped, caught herself, and smiled, sheepish, at Weiss.

Weiss huffed and took the bowl, and Ruby had a brief moment of relief she wasn’t starting before realizing this meant she was _last._ Which meant she couldn’t hurry it on to the next person.

Which meant Weiss had _absolutely_ done that on purpose.

_Weiss._

“I’ll start,” said Weiss. “And Nora? If you start stealing candy, I will ice you into a bunk and leave you there until your aura breaks.”

Nora pouted. “Meanie.” Then, with her eyes sparkling, “That’d be a cool endurance test, though. We should do it to Jaune!”

“Please don’t,” said Jaune, sighing. “I like not being frozen.”

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Okay, Nora,” said Weiss, twirling a mini chocolate bar between two fingers. “I’ve always looked to you for a light in the dark.” She stared at the chocolate bar, a slight frown on her face. “Even when all hope is lost, you’re still cracking jokes and trying to make us laugh. With the Grimm, that’s important, especially with our jobs, but as people…” She shook her head. “I know you use it to hide, sometimes, and as much as I want you to talk about what bothers you, I need that laughter, some days. Especially right now.”

Nora stared at her. “Wow, Weiss. I kind of thought you hated my jokes.”

Weiss smiled at her. “Never.” Then clearing her throat. “I, um… had a question.”

“Sure,” said Ruby. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Weiss stared at the candy in the bowl, at the piece between her fingers, and sighed. “What exactly _is_ gender?”

Ruby blinked. She had no idea how to answer that.

Weiss swallowed, throat bobbing. “Does… does it feel innate? Do you understand it just by looking inward? Or is it something you have to tackle, like a fight? Is it something to study?” Her gaze flicked up, darted around, dropped back to her hand. “Is the rejection of femininity a sign of rejecting being _female_ or are the two disconnected? How can you tell if you’re tired of being seen as one kind of girl or if you’re just tired of being seen as a girl entirely?”

“I think,” said Blake, from across the circle, “that all of those questions are really hard to answer. To look inside yourself and realize that something might not match up with what you’ve always thought to be true is such a huge struggle, and there’s no one way to approach it.” Blake smiled at her and, tentatively, Weiss met her gaze. “It took me a long time to understand my gender, Weiss, to realize that wanting to be a girl was a _symptom_ of being a girl.” She let out a quiet laugh. “And y’know, when I still thought I was a guy, I tried to push myself into being masculine, but that didn’t fit.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, which had turned a bright pink. “I think starting with _who_ you want to be, how you want to act, is an important first step in finding out _what_ you want to call yourself.”

Weiss smiled, small, hesitant, but there all the same. “Thank you, Blake. That helps a lot. I’ll think about it and… can I talk to you? If I have more questions?”

“Of course,” said Blake. “What are friends for?”

“You can talk to me, too,” said Jaune. “And I’m sure Nora would be fine with it.”

“Yup!” chimed Nora.

“I mean we sorta started out the same, y’know?” said Jaune, rubbing the back of his neck. “So maybe I can offer a perspective that Blake can’t.”

Oscar was staring at Blake. Blake looked at him, brow furrowed, and then turned rather pale.

“You didn’t know,” she said, sounding stunned. “ _Shit_ , I never—” She put her head in her hands. “Cool. Cool. Just casually coming out to random people without noticing. Cool.”

“It’s okay!” said Oscar, waving his hands in front of him. “I mean, I already knew about Nora and Jaune, remember? And um, well, I—” He stopped and grimaced. Stared at his lap. “I’m trans, too,” he mumbled.

Nora shrieked. Ruby stared. Noise broke out all around them. Jaune, Nora, and Blake all trying to talk at once. Ruby waved her hands in front of her to make them quiet down.

“Okay, okay, one at a time,” called Ruby. One at a time, everyone quieted down. Jaune grinned at Oscar.

“Welcome to the club,” said Jaune, with a gentle laugh. “Thanks for telling us.”

“You being so happy that we’re trans makes so much more sense now,” said Nora, clapping her hands together.

Blake raised her hand. “Anyone else wanna come out, while we’re at it?” She said it as a joke, but Penny’s hand slowly rose.

“Um,” said Penny, and all gazes swung toward her. “I’m trans. I mean, I think of myself as transgender. If that’s okay.” She was staring at Blake. “Is it?”

Blake blinked. “I… Penny, it’s your identity. You can see yourself as however you want.” She tilted her head. “I’m kinda curious though.”

Penny shrugged and clasped her hands together in her lap. “When my dad made me, he used his own aura, and he’s… a cisgender man?” She looked at Blake, who nodded. “And um, he designed me to be a boy.” She twirled her fingers together, staring down at them. Her hair fell over her shoulder and she frowned, brows drawing down. Ruby wanted to hug her. “But when I woke up, I didn’t wanna be a boy. I didn’t _feel_ like a boy and then I saw girls and realized I wanted to be a girl.” She looked at Blake, lips pursed, brow furrowed, eyes soft and scared. “That… I always thought I was trans, because of that. Is that okay?”

Blake smiled. “Of _course_ it’s okay, Penny. I’m honoured to count you as a fellow trans girl.”

Penny sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “Oh. Okay. That’s nice. Thank you. I don’t want to co-opt anyone’s identity.”

Nora squinted at Penny. “Is that why you look so much,” she gestured to Penny, “different, now?”

Penny nodded, a little smile on her face. “Yes. My original body was designed when my dad thought I was going to be a boy. Because I was in my body, he couldn’t change it much, but he did his best to help me look more like how I wanted.” She stared down at her gloves, a soft look on her face. “We used to draw pictures of what I wanted to look like, if he could rebuild me. When he had to, he made sure I looked more like how I wanted.” She gestured to herself. “So now, I get to look more like me. Although, I still—”

Blake stopped her. “If you’re about to tell us what’s under your clothes, you don’t need to. What you look like naked is only the business of yourself and people who you want to see you naked, like a lover or a trusted doctor.”

Penny nodded, eyes wide. “That makes sense. Thank you.” She looked at Ruby. “Is that okay? That’s I’m even more different than you thought?”

Ruby smiled. “Penny, every time I learn more about you, I just think you’re even cooler than I already did.” Her ears warmed, but she managed to keep herself from blushing all over her face. “You’re awesome, and the fact that you know so much about yourself, and that you put so much thought into your gender and how you feel about yourself and your body is just… really cool.”

“And human!” chimed Nora. “Like, I think people are the only ones who put thought into gender, so it’s just more proof that you’re just like us.”

Penny beamed. “That’s wonderful.” She clapped her hands together. “I’m so glad.”

Ruby looked at Yang, who glanced back at her. All Ruby could think was that it looked like both she _and_ Yang had a thing for beautiful trans girls. It made her giggle.

“Can I have the candy bowl now?” asked Nora. “We _did_ start this to get candy.”

Weiss rolled her eyes, took her chocolate, and passed off the bowl to Nora. “Actually, we started this to talk about our issues.”

Nora huffed and waved her off with one hand. “Details. Now, _candy._ ” Nora dove a hand for the bowl and a glyph wrapped around her wrist, yanking it back. She looked at Weiss and pouted, who giggled.

“I will say,” said Jaune, softly, “that I think it’s really cool that half the team is trans. That… I feel like that doesn’t happen for most people.”

“We might be the first,” said Yang. “It’s pretty awesome.” She looked at Weiss. “Maybe more. No pressure.”

Weiss shrugged. “I don’t know what I am. I’m… struggling.”

“Questioning is part of the process,” said Blake, her tone gentle. “And even if you decide you _are_ cis and you just reject traditional gender norms, this is an important journey for you.”

Weiss smiled. “Thank you.”

“And we can all help each other!” chimed Nora, before stuffing her face in the bowl. Weiss reached over and yanked her back by her hair. “Ow, ow, ow.”

Ren got to his feet and made for the door.

“Ren?” called Ruby. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” muttered Ren, shoving out the door and stalking away.

Yang was on her feet first. “I got ‘im.”

Ruby grimaced. Great. So much for her bright idea.

* * *

“Qrow!” called Clover as Qrow headed down the AA hallways. He’d just come from chatting with James about Amity Coliseum upgrades. The switch over to Amity Tower was going well, but there was a lot more Dust to be moved and it wouldn’t be done before election night or the next Council meeting.

Still, the sooner, the better.

Qrow turned and raised an eyebrow at him. In the background, near the end of the hall and milling around and elevator, was the rest of Clover’s team.

“Hey, Clover, what’s up?” asked Qrow.

Clover pulled to a stop a few feet from Qrow and grinned. “The team and I were gonna have a game night at my place. Take-out, snacks, board games, crack open a couple of beers. That sorta deal. We were hoping you’d join us.”

Qrow’s stomach sank. He’d been going to head back to James’ apartment, probably spend the night alone studying Lieutenant-General shit while James worked out things with supply in Atlas. Maybe they’d watch a movie if he came home early enough.

A game night sounded fun, but the idea of being around booze again, especially so soon…

He fought a shudder. “Uh, thanks, but no thanks, Clover. I’m… I’m just gonna head home.” He ducked his head and tried to move around Clover, but Clover stepped into his way, arms up.

“Hey,” said Clover. “You look upset. What did I do?” Qrow lifted his head and Clover watched him with a wrinkled brow and pursed lips. “Please tell me?”

Qrow grimaced. What was the worst that could happen? “I…” He looked away. “I just stopped drinking.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t really trust myself around it, right now.”

Clover’s expression flickered in Qrow’s peripheries. “We can work with that. Just pull out sodas and shit. No big deal.” He shrugged, a little smile on his face when Qrow turned his head. “Don’t even have to tell the others why, if you don’t want to. I’ve told them shit before and had them listen.”

Qrow swallowed. Board games _could_ be fun, and Clover was nice to be around. Especially with the whole semblance bullshit. Yeah, it had stung, at first, but the idea that his couldn’t fuck up Clover too badly was pretty soothing. Having his guard up all the time was _hard_ , not to mention fucking exhausting.

“Sure,” said Qrow, pushing back his fears. “If you don’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Clover beamed. “Great!” He spun around and slung an arm around Qrow’s shoulders, leading him over to the other Ace-Ops. “Guys! Qrow’s joining us tonight.”

Harriet eyed Qrow. “You any good at board games?”

“Only the ones that don’t involve luck,” said Qrow, drily.

“Those are banned,” said Harriet. “Y’know, because of Mr. Popular over here.” She jerked a thumb at Clover, who rolled his eyes.

“Look, if I could turn it off,” he started.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Harriet. “I’m just fucking with you.” The elevator door opened and they all climbed into it.

“Oh,” said Clover, arm still around Qrow’s shoulders. “Just so you guys know, I’m not allowing drinking at my place tonight. Don’t wanna deal with it with this many people.”

Harriet glanced at Qrow, eyes narrowed. Qrow tensed. Harriet shrugged.

“Yeah, sure. Makes sense, anyway,” she folded her arms across her chest, “if there’s an emergency in the kingdom, we don’t wanna be hungover or drunk or whatever.”

“I like root beer,” said Vine.

Elm grinned. “And I _love_ smoothies. I’ll bring my blender.” She punched a fist into her open palm. “We’ll have a healthy alternative to all those sugary drinks.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Do you _ever_ turn off?”

“You know I don’t,” said Elm, throwing an arm around Harriet’s shoulders.

Qrow mostly listened as the group led him to Clover’s apartment. Harriet and Elm went back and forth on the merits of healthy food versus greasy foods. Mostly a taste vs taste sort of thing. Marrow walked on one side of Clover while Qrow walked on the other, and Marrow leaned around to roll his eyes in Qrow’s direction about Harriet and Elm’s discussion. Each time, Qrow found himself supressing a chuckle.

It wasn’t a far walk. Clover lived in one of the affluent neighbourhoods near the academy, and Qrow’s eyebrows shot up when he saw the doorman. James had a doorman. Hell, this could have been James’ building, almost, bar a few details.

“Hey, Dandy,” said Clover, lifting a hand. “How’s the family?

“Good. The kids appreciated the donation to their school. Thank you very much, Clover,” said Dandy, the doorman, with a nod.

Clover shrugged, a flush to his ears. “Ah, don’t mention it.” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “They deserve the help. I just hope we can get those bills sorted after the election.”

Dandy nodded. “Mantle is all pulling for Miss Hill.”

“So’re we,” said Clover, nodding in return. “If you need anything in the meantime, don’t hesitate to call, all right? I don’t want you or any of your own out in the cold. It’s a nasty time of year and I’ll do whatever I can.”

Dandy smiled. “I appreciate that, Mr. Ebi.” He looked at Marrow and winked. Marrow’s tail wagged. “Don’t let me keep you from your night. Head on upstairs. My family and I are fine for the moment.” He stepped aside.

“All right, take care, man,” said Clover. He and the others all shuffled around Dandy, saying hello, and Qrow hesitated a step, watching Dandy. The man smiled at him. It was a simple, uncomplicated smile. Qrow expected him to look envious, angry, at having to ask for help from others. At an Atlesian supposedly looking down upon him.

Yet there was nothing there. Not in any part of his body language nor in any part of his expression. Huh. He shook his head and followed after the others.

Another elevator ride, a fancy hallway, and then they were in Clover’s apartment.

Clover’s massive, half professionally furnished, half furnished by a dorm student, apartment. And it was half a mess, too. Dishes and takeout containers piled on a kitchen island and around the counters. An overflowing garbage shoved against one cabinet in the kitchen.

“You could have cleaned for us,” said Qrow, drily.

Harriet and Marrow both snorted.

“He did,” said Harriet.

“Actually, _I_ did,” said Marrow, putting his hands on his hips. “This place was way worse before I came over. But I got sick of it, so I tried to organize it all and I threw out what I could.” He gave Clover a look. “I _refuse_ to do someone else’s dishes though. Not without some kind of incentive.”

Clover lifted his hands in a shrug. “I’ll rub your feet?”

“Sold,” said Harriet. She zipped forward, electricity crackling off her body, and Qrow watched the blur of her zip around, dumping garbage into a garbage bag that appeared out of nowhere. When it was all gone, she ran out the door and was back before it swung closed. Harriet skid to a stop and grinned. “Not the dishes, but all the trash is done. Now, rub my feet, boy.”

Clover sighed. “Deal’s a deal.” He shrugged. “Okay, grab some seats. Vine, it’s your turn to pick a game.”

“I like Carcassonne,” said Vine, strolling toward a big closet.

“Is that even playable with six people?” asked Harriet, flopping onto the couch and kicking off her shoes. She wiggled her toes – she wore _toe socks_ , what the _fuck_ – at Clover, who rolled his eyes and sat down next to her, patting his lap. Harriet spun and dropped her feet into his lap.

“With the expansions,” said Vine, opening the closet. They yelped as a bunch of boxes tumbled forward and bounced off them. Qrow hurried over to help.

“You okay?” he asked, picking up some of the boxes. None of them had broken open, thankfully.

Vine nodded, bent down, and scooped up a large, colourful box. “Found it!” they said, cheerfully. “Clover, didn’t we tell you to reorganize this closet?”

Clover shrugged. He’d tossed Harriet’s socks at some point in the last minute and was working at the bottoms of her feet, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, but they never fall over on me, so I didn’t,” he said.

Vine rolled their eyes. “That doesn’t help the rest of us.” They looked at Qrow. “Give me a hand?” Qrow nodded and helped Vine pile the boxes back into the closet, a little less precariously than before.

Qrow was just setting down the last box for some game called Munchkin when the whole stack wobbled, he wobbled, and the whole thing came down. Qrow swore and jumped back, watching the boxes slam, one after the other, onto the floor. Several of them broke open and game pieces scattered everywhere, rolling in all directions. Qrow groaned and put his head in his hands.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” said Vine.

“Yeah,” said Marrow, hopping up next to him. “Happens to all of us.” He beamed at Qrow and Qrow caught himself smiling, despite himself. “Plus, we know these games, so sorting out the pieces is super easy. Just help us gather ‘em up and we’ll do the rest.”

Qrow nodded and bent down, gathering game pieces that had scattered as far as the kitchen island. Some of them were tiny people, others were dice and more familiar pieces. Some were cards, and Qrow had to dig two of them out from under a slit beneath the cabinet. He hoped the rest hadn’t gone under there, but who knew, with him.

It took a few minutes, and Qrow felt every second of those minutes bearing down on him, making him wince and grimace whenever he found yet another piece. Marrow was happily chatting away the whole time, but Qrow couldn’t make out the words. He’d been here what, ten minutes? And he’d already fucked up their night.

Why had he thought he could do this? Just because he couldn’t hurt Clover didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck up everyone else’s night.

“Hey,” said Marrow, and his voice was low, next to Qrow’s ear. Qrow startled when he looked up and saw Marrow almost nose to nose with him on the floor. He hadn’t noticed. Damn. Marrow smiled at him. “It’s really okay. First time I came over I broke like four glasses. I was _so_ nervous. You’re okay. No one’s upset.” Marrow’s smile was soft and Qrow felt himself relax as he exhaled.

“Thanks,” whispered Qrow, in return.

Marrow beamed and took the game pieces from Qrow. Qrow sat back and watched as he and Vine sorted all the pieces back into their own boxes, closed them, and stacked them up together.

“Okay,” said Marrow. “That’s all the pieces. Nothing lost.” Marrow beamed at him. “Let’s play some games!”

The six gathered around on the floor and the couch, Clover unboxed the game and a couple smaller expansions, and Qrow listened as Clover explained the rules. Everyone got a different colour of pieces called ‘meeple’. Every turn, you picked up a card that held some form of road or river or house or _something_ and you had to attach it to a growing map. Place a meeple to gather points when you picked it back up.

There was more. A lot more, especially because of expansions, but Qrow figured he had the gist of it. He was less interested in the game and more interested in the company, anyway.

While Marrow, Vine, and Qrow had been cleaning up the fallen games, Clover had gotten out snacks. A couple six packs of sodas were sprawled on the floor around the table. There were bowls of snacks, bags of chips, and some funky looking dip that smelled _fantastic_.

Qrow watched the others grab some sodas and hesitantly grabbed one of his own, tucking it between his crossed legs where he sat on the floor.

This was… odd. Nice, but odd. And it was damn strange being the odd one out at his age. Especially when he’d been invited.

The game began and Qrow squinted, gathering what he could.

“It’s not a hard game, once you get the hang of it,” said Marrow. “And it’s one of the few games that’s not wholly luck based that we all like.”

Harriet scowled at the card she held. “Yeah. Still some luck though. Stupid. Need a better game.”

“Look. Last time we played _Sushi Go Party_ , you flipped the table and claimed that Clover rearranged the cards with his brain,” said Marrow, rolling his eyes. “He can’t do that Harriet. Whatever order the cards are in doesn’t change just because Clover picks them up.”

Harriet kept scowling. “I’m not saying he changes the order. I’m saying the cards go in the order that helps Clover most. The universe senses what the turn order is.” She wiggled her fingers. “He never loses anything! We need games without luck.”

Vine patted her on the shoulder. Elm laughed from where she was sitting and slurped her soda. “Oh come on, Harriet. He doesn’t always win. He lost a game of Settlers last week.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because I _cheated_.” She gave Elm a flat look. “Why do we keep inviting him to game night?”

Clover reached for her card and Harriet snatched it back, slapping it down on the table to continue the river. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Because _I_ started game night,” said Clover. Marrow picked up a card and squinted at it, then continued the river. Qrow plucked up his own card. Oh, he had a bridge over the river. There was only one place to put his piece, so that was that. “And I pay for all the snacks.”

“That’s because you’ve got rich parents,” said Elm. Her, then Vine, then it was back to Harriet, who scowled at her card again. “Bad card?”

“Shut up,” mumbled Harriet. They were just about out of river pieces, it looked like. Then Qrow guessed they played the rest of the game? Right. The rest of the pieces. And the river served as… a longer start. He’d paid attention. Maybe.

“Maybe it’s not that Clover’s luck is good, maybe it’s that you have shitty luck,” teased Marrow.

Qrow winced. “Sorry.” He looked away and Clover nudged him with his socked foot. Qrow glanced up at him and Clover flashed him a smile, small and gentle.

“Not your fault. Her luck has always sucked,” said Clover.

“What’s up with that?” asked Harriet, leaning around Marrow to squint at Qrow. “You bad luck or something?”

“ _Harriet_ ,” hissed Clover.

Qrow waved him off and turned to face Harriet, and the others, better. “Yeah.” His voice cracked as he spoke and he cleared his throat. “My semblance brings misfortune. To me, to people around me, to objects, you name it.” He couldn’t hold their gazes. Dropped his gaze to the game. “It’s passive. Gets worse when I’m upset and…” He winced. This was the hard part. “I’ve got really shitty control of it, so it just sorta… seeps into my whole life.”

“Wow,” said Harriet, after a beat. “That’s really shitty.”

Qrow snorted. “Yeah. You’re telling me.”

Marrow leaned and bumped their shoulders together. Qrow squinted at him, head still bowed. “If we can correct for Clover, we can correct for you.” Marrow’s smile as sympathetic. Maybe a little sad. “Not all of us have semblances we want, Qrow, or semblances that make people trust us. I…” He grimaced. “I know what that’s like. Having people judge you based on that. On any small part of you, really.” He wagged his tail behind him and Qrow caught himself smiling.

“And I know it might seem like someone complaining about any sort of privilege,” said Clover, placing a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “But my semblance… it has its moments. People assume I don’t work for anything, that everything I get is a product of my semblance.” Clover frowned. “A lot of people hate me for something I can’t even turn off. And the worst part? It doesn’t work on anyone else. Just me.” His eyes shuttered, something dark and haunted blurring the sharp colours. “Just me.” He looked away.

“Getting deep tonight,” said Elm. “Maybe Vine should have brought their incense sticks.”

“I left some candles here, last time,” said Vine, settling their hands together in their lap. “Perhaps we could burn one of those?”

Elm smiled at them. “I’m with these two,” said Elm, jerking her chin to Marrow and Clover while looking at Qrow. “Your semblance isn’t you. Don’t forget that. We all like Clover just fine, even if Hare can be a bitch.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, love you too.” Then, to Qrow, “And you’re fine. One semblance won’t fuck us all over and we’re all good enough, and _I’m_ fast enough, to take on anything it might cause.” Harriet flicked her thumb across her nose. “So don’t worry about it.”

“You guys say that like I’m one of you,” said Qrow, with a nervous laugh.

Vine watched him, expression serene. “Aren’t you?”

Qrow faltered and looked away, chest tight. They weren’t children. Too old to be kids, too young to be him. But they were honest, and hard-working, and Qrow found himself hanging out in the shadows of their light, enjoying the proximity.

“Sure,” he said, after a beat too long. “Why not?”

“Cool,” said Harriet. “Now let’s get out asses whooped by Clover.”

* * *

“Ren, wait up!” called Yang, hurrying down the hall after him. Ren’s footsteps didn’t falter and Yang scowled, pushing faster to try and catch up with his longer strides.

She caught up with him when he hit an empty common room and ran out of places to go.

“Hey, seriously,” said Yang, slowing to a stop. She stood at the only door into the room and watched him, keeping her hands at waist height and splayed open to show she meant no harm. Like tracking a wild animal injured by a trap. And now she had him cornered. This never ended well when she was hunting in the forests of Patch.

At least Ren probably wouldn’t bite and definitely didn’t have rabies.

“Whatever’s bothering you, you can talk about it,” said Yang. He’d said he wasn’t ready, but ‘not ready’ didn’t make up for how he was acting.

“I don’t want to,” said Ren, voice hard. He turned away from Yang and folded his arms across his chest. His hair was down and there were knots in the last few inches, the tangles visible from even halfway across the room. Nora was always on top of his hair when Ren wasn’t up to it.

What the hell was going on?

“Yeah, well, I don’t think that’s good enough,” said Yang. She put one hand on her hip. “Look, I get not wanting to talk about what’s bugging you, and wanting to pretend you’re strong, but you saw how well that went for me.” She winced and rubbed the back of her neck, fingers not quite catching in her loose ponytail. “And it looks like it’s going the same way for you.”

She stuffed her hands into her sweatpants pockets and shuffled over to Ren, just close enough to reach out and touch him, but not close enough to corner him.

She faced the same wall he did and turned her head to look at him.

“You told me that people love me and I should stop acting like they don’t,” said Yang, softly. “Now, I’m saying it back to you. We love you, Ren. Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to share it with everyone. But please, share it with _someone._ ”

Ren dipped his head, eyes half closed and brimming with tears.

“Maybe Nora?” tried Yang.

Ren flinched as if struck. “ _No_.” The word came out hoarse and panicked. “Not Nora. It can’t be Nora.” Now, Yang reached up and touched him. “Anyone but Nora,” he whispered.

“Okay,” said Yang, gently guiding Ren to one of the couches. “What about me? I can’t promise I’ll understand, but I’ll try.” She hadn’t been on the road with Ren and the others. Hadn’t fought the monstrous Grimm in Kuroyuri that they had. Hadn’t seen Qrow like that, hadn’t almost died in that moment. Hadn’t mourned Pyrrha with the four of them.

But she knew what it was like, to blame yourself for things you couldn’t change. To punish yourself for things out of your control.

“It’s not just one thing,” whispered Ren, settling on the couch. Yang settled next to him and placed a hand on his midback. “It’s… a few.”

“Okay,” said Yang. “Let’s take them one at a time.”

Ren took a deep, shaky breath that pressed his back firmly into Yang’s hand. He was trembling all over and all Yang could do was rub what she hoped were comforting circles into his back and offer him patience and a little smile.

It took a few minutes, but he spoke.

“Nora and I didn’t have anyone but each other, growing up,” said Ren. He was hunched over, arms braced on his legs, staring down at the floor. His hair hung in his face, half-obscuring the tears Yang knew were still there. “We were our own family. When we came to Beacon, we got Jaune, and Pyrrha, and all of you.” He swallowed, audible in the shuddering of his breath.

Yang waited.

“We almost died so many times on the road, Yang. We’ve had to make so many decisions, and I’m… I’m _scared_. What if those decisions are the wrong ones? What if we hurt people? What if… what if people _die_ because of us?” Ren’s shaking got worse.

“Hey,” said Yang, gently. “Hey, we’re doing the best we can.”

“But what if it’s not enough?” asked Ren. He jerked to his feet and stared pacing. “Nora and I are just orphans. Ruby and Oscar are kids. Penny doesn’t even understand that she _died_. Weiss is having a crisis. Blake can’t fight men anymore. What are we supposed to do?” He threw his arms into the air and spun around to face Yang. His chest heaved. “We’re kids, Yang. We’re not hunters. We’re just playing dress-up.”

Yang pushed herself to her feet and planted her hands on Ren’s shoulders. “Take some deep breaths, okay? You’re not alone and neither is the team.” Yang lifted one hand to gesture around her. “Look around, Ren. We’re in the most powerful school in the most powerful kingdom in Remnant. We’ve got the entire military force of Atlas on our side. Maybe we’re not strong enough, but the Ace-Ops are going to change how they train us, right? We can get stronger. And we aren’t facing this alone.” She cupped Ren’s face in one hand and angled it toward her. “You aren’t alone. Yeah, the world weighs a lot, I get that. But you’ve got a lot of people holding it up with you.”

She offered him a little smile and he returned it, letting out a short laugh before reaching up to wipe at his eyes.

“Weren’t you complaining about all that like, two days ago?” he asked.

Yang sighed, then grimaced. “Yeah, well, I am a hypocrite on my best day, y’know?” She shrugged. “I’m figuring it out. Listening to Ruby helped.”

Ren’s smile strengthened. “She’s something else.”

“Yeah, one of a kind,” said Yang. Well, not quite. She reminded Yang of Mom – _their_ mom, not Raven – from what Yang could remember of her. Sweet and kind, but with a breaking point that showcased strength and anger in waves. “I guess… yeah. I’m saying shit I didn’t believe in, a couple days ago. And maybe I still don’t know if I believe in all of it,” said Yang. “But I know it’s true. And I know it helps, to think of it that way.”

She didn’t know if the Ace-Ops would train them better than they had been. She didn’t know if Qrow and Ironwood would tell them everything. No one ever had, so why should she start trusting that people would, now?

Ruby made it look easy, trusting people. And look at where it had gotten her. Oz had lied to them and was gone. Ironwood seemed all right but who knew with him. Yang had seen enough great men fall to know they tended not to last on their own feet.

“There’s… something else,” said Ren, pulling Yang from her thoughts. Yang refocused herself on the present and on Ren. She could dwell later. Ren needed her.

“Okay,” said Yang, guiding Ren back to the couch. She sat down next to him, holding his hands in her own. “Talk to me.”

Ren licked his lips and looked away, hair falling over his shoulder and over his face. “Do you… do you think that…” Another pause. Another hesitation. He was shaking, Yang realized with a start. He was trembling under her hands, bad enough that his outline shuddered and his hair wobbled. Oh gods. What was on his mind to do _this_ to him?

“Would you still feel the way you do about Blake, if she wasn’t who you thought she was?”

Yang blinked. Blinked again. Pressed her lips together and cocked her head. “Um…” She wasn’t sure where to start there. That Ren had figured out how she felt about Blake? That made her face heat, but it made sense. Ren saw it all the time in his own relationship. Which brought the second part – he was comparing her and Blake to him and Nora. That… that was a compliment, a validation, that Yang hadn’t known she’d needed. Sure, Ren and Nora weren’t dating, but they clearly loved each other, even if they hadn’t gotten there yet.

So they were speaking in non-hypothetical hypotheticals. She could work with this. She’d done it with Ruby and Qrow her whole life.

“I… Yeah. I can’t imagine anything that would change how I feel about her,” said Yang, cheeks warm. “Why?”

Ren looked at her, the fear so thick in his expression that Yang almost leaned away from him.

“And it doesn’t… it’s never been a factor, that she’s trans?” asked Ren.

Yang’s first reaction was that Ren was being transphobic. After a second to breathe – and to make sure she didn’t accidentally burn his hands – she knew that was stupid. He’d known Nora his whole life. But she had no idea where to go from here.

“No, of course not,” said Yang. “Blake’s Blake. Her beautiful, wonderful self.” Yang hesitated. “Ren, if this is about Nora…”

“No!” Ren jerked, hair falling over his face again. His hands tensed in Yang’s. “No. Nora’s been Nora our whole lives. Even though we were poor, and homeless, for so long, she always wanted to be herself. We got fabric to make her clothes and—” A pause. “We used to work together to steal her hormones,” whispered Ren.

Yang stared. “Seriously?” She couldn’t imagine them stealing. Not effectively.

Ren shrugged, not looking at her. “She’d distract everyone while I snuck behind the counter and grabbed what she needed. I wanted Nora to be happy with herself, even if we didn’t have anything else.”

“Okay,” said Yang, slowly. “I’m not following.”

Ren swallowed. “What if Blake _wasn’t_ Blake.” Ren pulled away from Yang and hugged himself. “What if the whole time you know her, Blake’s been a girl, and then one day, she told you she wasn’t? What if she told you that she’s a different gender? What then?”

Yang took a deep breath, starting to put the pieces together.

She wished someone else was here. Like Blake, or Jaune, or even _Oscar._ Or Qrow! Qrow understood gender way better than any cis dude should. Just _someone_ that wasn’t her. Yang didn’t get gender. She was a chick. Always had been. Never put a second thought into it. How did she help someone who was struggling with theirs?

She knew that answer, actually.

By answering Ren’s questions and trying her best.

Okay.

So what was her answer? She didn’t even have to think about it.

“I’d still love her,” said Yang, softly. Slowly, she slid down to the floor, because Ren was staring there anyway, and kneeled in front of Ren, pulling his hands back into hers. She smiled up at him. “If Blake woke me up tomorrow and told me that she wasn’t a girl, that she felt she was something else, then you know what? I’d stop calling myself a lesbian.” She shrugged. “For me, it’s that simple. I know for other people it isn’t, but my love for her isn’t tied to her gender, it’s tied to her soul.” Yang took a deep breath and met Ren’s gaze with her own. “And I know that Nora feels the same way about you.”

Tears brimmed in Ren’s eyes. “Do you really think so?” His voice cracked and he blinked rapidly, tears spilling down his cheeks and a choked sob slipping from his lips.

“I do,” said Yang. “And I promise you, we’ll all still love you, too, Ren. I know it must be hard, to be the only one of us not out when we met, but it won’t change anything but what we call you.”

What _would_ they call him? When would Ren get the courage to say those words? Yang didn’t know. But she’d wait as long as it took.

“Nora’s known me our whole lives,” said Ren, voice hoarse and low. “I don’t want to disappoint her.”

Yang squeezed Ren’s hands. “Why would you?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” croaked Ren. “But I’m _scared._ ” He reached up and swiped at the tears over his eyes. “I don’t want her to be upset. I don’t want her to feel like I lied to her. She’s been out for so long that I don’t know how she’ll feel about this and it’s stupid, I _know_ it’s stupid—”

“It’s not stupid.” Yang squeezed again. “ _You’re_ not stupid. You’re scared and this is a huge deal. Okay? I might not understand gender, okay? But I understand fear, and being scared to tell someone you love something huge, no matter what that love might be.” Yang reached up with her right hand and thumbed away some of Ren’s tears. Ren leaned into her hand as she rested the palm on his cheek. “But you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.”

Ren nodded. “I want to,” he whispered.

“Okay,” said Yang. “I’m here.”

Ren let out something like a laugh, maybe a sob, and shook his head. “This shouldn’t be so hard. I know it won’t bother you. So why…?” He trailed off.

Yang shrugged. “Doesn’t have to make sense for it to scare you.” Yang brushed Ren’s hair back from his face. “Coming out is hard. Hell, I remember being scared to tell Dad I was gay, and I knew he wasn’t straight. It’s… I dunno. I guess it’s about changing perceptions. The fear of changing people’s idea of you. Challenging it.”

Ren looked at Yang, some of the fear lifting to reveal a thoughtful furrow to his brow. “That makes perfect sense,” he murmured. Ren sighed, body shuddering. “I’m non-binary.”

Yang smiled. “That’s pretty cool.” She stroked Ren’s cheek with her thumb and met Ren’s gaze. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah?” A light returned to Ren’s eyes.

Yang nodded. “Yeah.” She let her hand slide down to Ren’s shoulder and squeezed. “So, does that change how I should refer to you? Like your name or your pronouns?” Was Ren like Vine, who changed pronouns frequently, or like Scarlet, whose pronouns were stable? Or maybe multiple pronouns that were both fine? She knew a couple people like that. Fox was pretty chill with being called ‘they’, even if he labelled himself as a trans guy.

“Um,” Ren sniffled and reached up to swipe at tears that spilled down damp, ruddy cheeks. “I’ve thought about it, and I’d like to go by ‘they’. My name is fine, I’d just like to change my pronouns.”

Yang nodded again. “Yeah, that’s cool. I can do that.” She smiled at Ren and ducked her head until she met Ren’s gaze. “Hey, you did awesome. I’m so proud of you.”

“You are?” Ren’s voice cracked.

Yang fought a grin down to a gentle smile. “Yeah. Coming out is hard, especially when you’re scared. You did amazing Ren.” Ren smiled at her, smile wobbly. “Do you want a hug?” Ren nodded and sniffled again. Yang shifted to climb back up onto the couch, but before she could, Ren slid off the couch and ended up mostly in her lap, face buried in her shoulder.

“Oh.” The noise startled out of her, but she smiled and relaxed back to sitting on the floor, wrapping her arms around Ren and settling her cheek atop their head. “I got you,” she whispered, stroking Ren’s long hair with one hand and holding them tight with the other. “I got you.”

“Thank you,” whispered Ren, breath tickling her neck.

“You’re welcome,” said Yang.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Ren’s sniffles and Yang’s quiet reassurances the only noise in the room. Yang was glad for the isolated location, because it meant no one could walk in on them without her noticing.

Which is why someone managed exactly that.

“Um.” Yang twitched, not starting too hard because she didn’t want to startle Ren. Ren startled a bit more. Nora’s voice had come from behind them, and Yang turned her head to look over her shoulder at the other girl.

“Hey, Nora,” said Yang, a little above a whisper. “You good?”

Nora nodded, looking at Ren. “Is everything okay?” She took a hesitant step forward, one hand curled just below her mouth. “You were gone for a while and I was worried…” She trailed off. None of the false humour or dumb jokes broke the surface of her anxiety and Yang, despite herself, wished they would. This Nora, scared and hesitant, awkward and confused, wasn’t _normal_ for Yang. And seeing Nora so different made her cringe at how much she’d yelled at Nora for who usual demeanour.

Grass was always greener and all that, right?

“Yeah, we’re good,” said Yang, stroking Ren’s back. “Hey, Ren? Did you uh, wanna talk to Nora?”

Ren tensed, fingers twisting the fabric of Yang’s shirt.

“It’ll be okay,” said Yang. “I’m right here.”

Ren nodded against her shoulder and pulled away, hands sliding free as Ren got to their feet. Yang watched them circle around her and stop only a step behind her.

“Do you… wanna sit down?” asked Ren.

Nora nodded, wide-eyed gaze darting back and forth between Ren and Yang. Yang offered Nora a little smile.

“It’s nothing bad,” said Yang. “We were just sorting some things out, together.”

Nora nodded and followed Ren to the couch. They sat next to one another, Nora with one leg pulled up onto the couch so she could face Ren, Ren with both feet flat on the ground and hands clenched against their knees. Head bowed, shoulders hunched. Yang stayed on the floor, watching.

“Okay, so uh,” Ren cleared their throat and licked their lips. “I know I’ve been acting strange, lately.”

Nora nodded. “A little.” Her voice wobbled.

“And some of it’s been anxiety, and fear, and all the things we’ve been through. I’m scared, Nora. We’ve done so much, but I fear it’s not enough.” Ren didn’t look at anyone as they spoke. They just stared at the floor. Nora reached out to rest a hand atop Ren’s. Ren twitched, but didn’t pull away. Progress.

“We’ll figure it out,” said Nora. “We’ve got support.”

Ren’s lips twitched. “Yang said the same thing.”

Nora glanced at Yang and smiled. Yang returned it.

“Yang’s always been really smart,” said Nora. They both returned their gazes to Ren.

Ren took a deep, shuddering breath. “But that’s not all that was bothering me.”

“Okay,” said Nora, nodding. “Do you wanna talk about the rest?”

Ren glanced at Nora, then at Yang. Yang nodded.

“I… if there was something about me you didn’t know, do you think it would change anything about us?” asked Ren. They fidgeted with their free hand, tugging at the fabric of their pants.

“Um,” Nora blinked, “I guess not? I mean, not in a bad way.” She tugged at her shirt. “I don’t think I could ever care about you _less_ , Ren.”

Ren took another breath. They were trembling again. Yang reached up and tangled her fingers with those of Ren’s free hand.

“Okay,” said Ren. “I’m not—I don’t think—I…” Ren grimaced.

“Take your time,” said Yang. She couldn’t imagine how hard this was for Ren. The closest equivalent she had was somewhere between Blake and Ruby. Ruby for time known, Blake for feelings. It’d be hard, wouldn’t it, to tell them? But Yang didn’t know. She’d been out for years as gay, but gender was an entirely different field. Something she’d never had to worry about.

Privileges you didn’t now you had and all that. Meeting her team had changed a lot of things.

“I’m not… I’m trans, Nora,” said Ren, softly. They didn’t look at her as they spoke. “Non-binary, a-actually. I’ve been so scared to tell you because I didn’t want your feelings about me to change because I know—” Ren stopped, flushed, and shrunk even further into themself.

Nora squeezed Ren’s hand between both of hers and smiled at them. “Hey. It’s okay. I know I’m not subtle.” She leaned in close and pressed their shoulders together. “Can I ask you something?” Ren nodded. “Were you scared to tell me, to tell anyone, because you knew I loved you?”

Stillness. Then, Ren gave a single nod.

Nora’s eyes welled with tears. “Oh, _Ren_. I am so sorry I made you feel that way.” She lifted her arms and threw them around Ren’s shoulders. Ren startled, hand pulling free of Yang’s, before hugging Nora back. They were both crying, Ren’s tears falling silently into Nora’s clothing and Nora’s sniffles and wet voice the only indicators, because Yang couldn’t see her face.

“Of course I still love you,” said Nora, voice hoarse and low in Ren’s shoulder and hair. “You don’t have to be anything you’re not to have my love, Ren. You’re _you_. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just… you. As you.” She pulled back and cupped Ren’s face in her hands, smiling at them with their foreheads pressed together. “So if you’re non-binary, um, is there anything changing?”

“My name is fine,” said Ren, almost a whisper. They reached up and wrapped their slender fingers around Nora’s wrists. “But I’d like to change to ‘they’, now.”

Nora nodded, moving both of them. Yang watched, tears in her eyes.

“Okay, they it is,” whispered Nora. “That makes all of us trans, you know. You, me, Jaune, Oscar. I know we’re one team now, but…”

“Yeah,” said Ren. “I get it.”

Nora was blushing. “Um… so if you know how I feel, and you brought it up…”

“Yes, Nora,” said Ren. They cleared their throat. “I’m… fairly certain I love you, as well.”

Nora’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “Really?” she whispered.

“Really,” said Ren. Nora tilted her head and leaned in, kissing them. Yang looked away, cheeks heated and ears burning. She scooted back and shuffled to her feet, ignoring the quiet noises Nora made as the kiss deepened and turned more passionate, more desperate.

When they pulled back, Nora sighed.

Ren said, “Sorry.” Yang glanced back to see them looking at her.

Yang let out a laugh and rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah, that’s fine. You two deserve to be happy.” It was the sort of thing she hoped she and Blake could have, someday. But they had a long way to go. Broken trust, broken promises broken hearts. They’d get there, she hoped. But it would take a lot of time and effort.

“Thank you,” said Ren. “For everything.”

“Yeah, Yang. Thank you,” said Nora. She got to her feet and pulled Ren with her.

Ren cleared their throat. “It’ll be hard, you know, the two of us. We’ve both been through a lot, both in our lives and over the last two years. We’ll probably fight. We’ll probably forget what the other needs, sometimes.”

“I’m willing to try if you are,” said Nora, squeezing Ren’s hands.

Ren smiled. “I think I am. For you.”

Yang fought a sigh. That was _adorable._ And she thought she wasn’t a romantic. Fuck.

“So, do you two want to stay here and I’ll cover for you? Or do you want to head back? Or…?” Yang trailed off. She tugged at her ponytail and fidgeted, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Dunno what other options there are.”

“I think we should head back,” said Ren. They looked down at Nora and squeezed her hand. They smiled. “I’d like to tell the others.”

“You sure?” asked Nora.

Ren nodded. “Yes. I am. I have all the support I need to do it, now.”

Nora flushed red. “O-okay.”

Yang fought a grin. Yeah, awkward, flustered Nora was an improvement over all other Noras. This was great. Hilarious. And just plain _funny._

…Was this what she was like around Blake? Crap. No wonder Weiss was always rolling her eyes.

“All right, let’s go,” said Yang.

She led the small group back to the room, not bothering to say anything else. Her body thrummed with the last dregs of adrenaline. She’d half expected to chase Ren out of the building, to fight Ren with words. The comforting, the crying, the hugging, that wasn’t what she’d become used to, in the last little bit. But it was better. More like what it used to be. Only, different. Different in a good way.

When they got back to the dorm, Yang entered first, stepping aside to let Ren and Nora, who were holding hands, enter behind her.

“Hey,” said Ruby, still sitting where Yang had left her. “Is everything okay?”

Ren looked at Nora and Yang. They both smiled at them. Ren smiled in return.

“There’s something I’d like to tell all of you,” said Ren, softly.

Jaune’s eyes were on their joined hands. When he saw Yang looking at him, he looked away, a flush creeping up his jaw and ears. Yang raised an eyebrow. Huh. What was that about?

“Okay,” said Ruby. She was smiling at the trio in that easy way she always seemed to be able to pull off. Yang scooted around the edge of the circle and dropped into her spot, crossing her legs and propping her elbows on her knees.

Ren took a deep breath. “I’ve been upset for a few reasons, lately, but the one that’s most relevant came from fear.” They looked at Nora, who nodded. “I was… scared. Scared to tell you all something about myself, because I feared it would change how you saw me.”

“And now?” asked Weiss.

Ren’s smile was soft. “I’m still scared, in many ways, but… I was wrong to fear your reactions. You’re my friends, and I love you all.”

“We love you too, Ren,” said Jaune, softly. “What is it you want to tell us?” Again, his eyes darted to Ren and Nora’s joined hands.

“I’m non-binary,” said Ren, “and I’d like to use they/them pronouns, if that’s all right with all of you.”

Blake visibly perked. “That’s awesome!” Her ears fluffed up. “I’m so glad you know you can trust us.”

Oscar smiled. “Wow, we’re kind of the majority, aren’t we? You know, trans people on the team.” Oscar blinked. “I-if you’re okay with being called trans, that is.”

“I am,” said Ren, with a nod.

Jaune reached out and rested a hand on Ren’s leg. “Thanks, Ren. You’re pretty awesome.”

Weiss tilted her head. “The two of you and Elm and Vine continue to have far too much in common,” she said, drily. Then, with a smile, “I’m glad you told us.”

Ruby beamed. “Team RRAYNBOW got a little more rainbow! Heck yeah!” She pumped a fist into the air. Penny giggled. Ruby’s ears turned red and she grinned at Penny. Yang rolled her eyes. Now that was just _cute._

“Right,” said Ren. “Also, Nora and I are dating now.”

Everyone yelled.

Yang fell over cackling.

Yeah, that was the _best_ way Ren could have said that.

* * *

“This is bullshit!” said Harriet, smacking a hand off the table as Clover won the fourth game of Carcassonne in a row.

Clover spread his hands and shrugged. “I’m sorry. You’re the one who bought this game in the first place, Hare. I really didn’t think it would go this poorly.”

Elm chuckled. “Ah, don’t worry about it, Clover. You know we all race for second most of the time, anyway. Long as the game scores us all the way down the line, I couldn’t care less if you win every time.”

“I concur,” said Vine. “Though, I do seem to keep coming in last.”

“You keep using all your meeple for fields, Vine, you gotta save some for roads and cities and stuff,” said Marrow, leaning over the table as he started collecting all the coloured pieces.

“I like the fields,” said Vine, simply. Qrow shook his head and chuckled, leaning back as he watched them all. He’d gotten third, that time, and he felt pretty good about it, considering he still had no idea how some of this game worked. At least he wasn’t last.

“Hey, speaking of bullshit,” said Harriet, leaning forward, her hands pressed to her crossed ankles. “Why don’t we play?”

Qrow blinked. “The card game?” he guessed.

“Isn’t that luck based?” asked Marrow.

Harriet waggled a finger. “No, it’s bluff based. And we all know golden boy over here can’t lie on his best day.” She grinned, all teeth, at Clover. “But just to be safe, why don’t we make it… _interesting_?” She waggled her eyebrows at Clover and Clover sighed.

“I’m going to end up naked again, aren’t I?”

Harriet kept grinning. “What do you think?”

Qrow shook his head. “Am I missing something?” Clover? Naked? No thank you. That was a whole lot of pasty pink skin that he did not need to imagine. Eugh. “Why would playing Bullshit end with Clover being naked?”

Harriet bounced up and down, which was kind of impressive, considering she was still sitting.

“Strip Bullshit,” said Harriet. “Rules hold as normal.” She lifted her hand to count them off on her fingers. “You get caught lying, you pick up the pile, you call someone and they’re telling the truth, you pick up the pile. First one out of cards wins.” She turned her feral grin on Qrow. “If you have to pick up the pile, you strip. One piece of clothing per pick-up. We play to our skivvies. No nudity.”

“Bras or no bras?” asked Elm.

Harriet shrugged. “I prefer playing ‘til bras off, because it gives us an edge, but it’s up to Qrow.”

Qrow looked around the circle. Everyone was watching him. Well, never let it be said that he wasn’t any good at going with the flow. Besides, he’d played this game with his nieces and he almost never lost. Being able to bluff and read tells from being a spy came in handy.

“Yeah, all right, let’s play.” He looked at Harriet. “And sure, tits out, why not? Not like I give a crap. I _am_ a married man.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Harriet snort-laughed, clapping a hand over her mouth.

“Yeah, okay, I take back every bad thing I’ve said about you. You’re cool for an old guy,” said Harriet.

“Not old,” said Qrow, squinting.

Harriet waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Clover? Two decks.” Clover got to his feet and headed for the closet.

“And what do you mean you’ve said bad things about me?” asked Qrow, a little indignant. He was used to it from people he knew, but Harriet had only known him for a couple of weeks. Winter had waited a good two months before she decided he was useless.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, you show up out of _nowhere_ , you and Ironwood keep making eyes at each other, you get the second highest rank in the military _somehow_ , and I’m supposed to just roll over and take it.” Harriet gave him a flat look. “Yeah, I was skeptical. Fucking sue me, Branwen.” She leaned against the table, around Marrow, and stabbed a finger at him. “You don’t even have an ass, what am I supposed to think? That Ironwood likes you for your _personality?_ ”

There was a _lot_ Qrow needed to unpack in that snark, but Gods he had no idea where to start. James was making eyes at him? His personality was shit?

“I don’t have an ass?” Well, that wasn’t what he meant to say, but it was the only thing that would come out. Oops.

Harriet snorted. “No. You don’t. You’ve seen us, right? The only assless wonder on the Ace-Ops is _Vine._ ” Vine waved. “And uh, I may not be into men, but I can appreciate that the General has everything you _don’t_ in the ass department.”

Qrow blinked. Well. James _did_ have a nice ass. Qrow couldn’t argue with that. And he’d seen it a _lot_ since he’d moved in. The way all his pants fit snug against the curve of it, the way his pyjama pants sat a little too low in the back…

Qrow coughed and shifted, half crossing one leg over the other.

“Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We gonna play or what?”

Clover dropped back onto the couch and tossed the decks down. “Who’s dealing?”

“Why doesn’t Clover deal?” asked Qrow.

“Law,” said the other Ace-Ops in near unison.

Clover shrugged. “Apparently I influence the decks when I shuffle.”

Qrow stared. Maybe luck wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, after all. But hey, Clover still had more going for him at this age than Qrow _ever_ had. So.

He wasn’t sure where he was going with that.

Harriet shuffled and dealt, tossing out cards to everyone until they were all gone. Cards up, and the game began, starting with Harriet and working around.

Harriet and one ace, Vine and two ones, and so on. Qrow watched, cataloguing expressions, twitches, tells. There were little things he’d picked up from the time he’d spent around the five. Bits and pieces of expressions that he’d gotten just from watching, listening.

Qrow pulled three cards on his turn, one four, a queen, and a jack. “Three fours,” he said, setting them down. No one called.

Marrow set down his cards. “Two fives.”

“Bullshit,” said Qrow, barely lifting his voice. Marrow turned his head and pouted. “C’mon, Marrow, flip ‘em.”

“How?” whispered Marrow as flipped over his pair of cards, revealing a five and a two.

Qrow grinned. Marrow’s tail didn’t move when he lied. It wasn’t even that noticeable. Just the briefest, barest hesitation in his fingers. The slightest bobbing of the throat. Nothing most people would notice.

“Cards and clothes,” said Harriet, grinning. “C’mon, Marrow, lose something.”

Marrow rolled his eyes and undid his uniform jacket, peeling it off and tossing it onto one of the beanbags. The button-up beneath tugged at his shoulders. He needed a new shirt.

Marrow grabbed the discard pile and they continued.

Harriet, Elm, Vine, Clover.

“Three nines,” said Clover. His eyes skittered away from the table for a second. His eyebrows moved. Qrow grinned.

“Bullshit,” said Qrow.

Clover rolled his eyes and flipped the cards. One nine, two others. Ha. He stripped off his sleeveless jacket, revealing the tank top beneath, and tossed it over the back of the couch.

And so it continued. Harriet lost her jacket/shirt thing, Vine lost both of their sleeve-gloves, Elm lost her jacket, Qrow lost nothing because no one could find his tells (he didn’t really have any), and Clover? Clover was quickly ending up naked.

First his tank top, then socks, then his gloves and his armband (they counted as one), then his pants.

Clover stood up and stepped around them all to wiggle out of his pants, the Ace-Ops hooting the entire time. Qrow grinned and joined them, letting out a wolf whistle when Clover got his pants down his hips and slipped them off, revealing white briefs covered in little four-leafed clovers. Qrow raised an eyebrow at them, only to notice, by the shift of Clover’s hips and the way he was standing—

Oh. _Fuck._

No wonder Clover could get laid so easily.

The man was _packing._

Qrow looked away, shaking his head. Mark that down as things he wished he could forget.

“I think that counts as narcissism,” said Harriet, drily.

Clover rolled his eyes, tossed his pants into the growing pile of clothes, and hopped over everyone to drop back onto the couch.

“I’m out of clothes,” he said, spreading his hands. “I’m out.”

Harriet snickered. “Really, you’re not even gonna try and defend your choice in underwear?”

Clover raised an eyebrow at her. “Harriet? Usually when people get me down to my underwear, they’re not looking to keep them _on_ for long.” His ears were red and he shifted, folding one leg over the other to try and cover himself.

“Ooh, the boy has game.” Harriet rolled her eyes. “You still lost. Thanks to Qrow.” She winked at Qrow. “If we ever do a team game, you’re on my team.”

Qrow couldn’t help but smile at that, despite the vaguely horrifying mental image still in his head. No one ever wanted him on their team. “Sounds like a plan, Harriet.”

“Call me Hare, off duty,” said Harriet. “All my friends do.”

And yeah, he was a man in his mid-forties, surrounded by people a good fifteen, twenty years younger than him. But damn if the word ‘friend’ didn’t make his heart soar like he was a fucking kindergartener.

They returned to the game, and before long Qrow was down to very few cards and Harriet was down to her socks, her bra, and her underwear.

“One four,” said Qrow, setting down his card.

“Bullshit!” called Marrow, who was holding half as many cards Clover had been and twice as many as Elm and Vine.

Qrow grinned and flipped over the card. “Strip, pretty boy,” said Qrow. Marrow had lost his button-up at some point, leaving him in his tattoo sleeves and his undershirt.

Marrow stared at the four. He pouted. “ _Seriously_? I thought I had you that time.”

Qrow shrugged. He’d slipped a tell in, a twitch of his nose. And he’d only put it in because Marrow kept doing it. People were more likely to notice their own tells and the tells of their partners. Far as Qrow knew, none of them had partners, but he’d noticed that Marrow noticed Clover’s more than anyone else did.

He’d noticed a lot of things about Marrow and Clover.

“Strip,” said Qrow, a smirk twitching onto his face. “Not my fault I’m good at this.”

Harriet sighed and leaned back on her hands. “Anyone else realize we’re playing a game based on lying with a _spy_?”

“Aw, crap,” said Marrow. He rolled his eyes. “No, I hadn’t. Until now.” He scooted back from the table and peeled his undershirt off, revealing a handful of black and metallic gold tattoos, a few white outlines, and the umber and deep brown of his skin. He wasn’t as hairy as Qrow expected, but the tufts of body hair burst from his breastbone and trailed down near his belly button.

If Qrow were ten, fifteen years younger, he’d be attracted to Marrow. Mostly, he just wanted to hand the kid a sweater and buy him some snacks.

Marrow slid back into place, pouting.

“Least I still have my pants,” muttered Marrow.

Harriet gave him a look. “You wear _three shirts._ ”

“I like to be cozy!” protested Marrow.

Clover’s Scroll buzzed against the edge of the table and he grabbed it. “Oh, food’s here.” He hopped to his feet and scooted around the table, running for the door. “Be right back.”

“Pants!” called Elm. Clover backpedaled into the apartment, sprinted down the hallway, and reappeared a few seconds later, hopping into a pair of grey sweatpants. He stumbled forward, caught himself on the door frame, yanked up his pants with one hand, and swung out the door.

Qrow blinked as the door shut.

“Why didn’t he fall over?” asked Qrow.

“Semblance,” said Harriet, drily. “It’s gotta make up for how much we’re kicking his ass.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Clover trip,” said Elm. She looked at Vine. “You?” Vine shook their head and leaned back, trying to squint at Elm’s cards. Elm grinned. “You trying to get me naked?”

Vine looked at her, the slightest twitch of their mouth betraying their amusement. “Perhaps.”

Elm let out a roaring laugh and clapped Vine on the shoulder. Vine swayed, grabbing at Elm and also at the couch for balance.

“You’re a great joker, Vine,” she said, cheerfully. Vine rolled their eyes.

“I try,” they said, drily.

Qrow looked at Marrow, then let his eyes skim everyone else. Calculated risk, but he had a feeling it’d go well. Not a hunch, but more of a conclusion based on how he’d watched these four interact.

“So, Marrow,” said Qrow. “What’s going on with you and Clover?”

Marrow squeaked, tail shooting straight up his back and bushing out. “Nothing! Why does everyone think there’s something going on between us?”

“’Cuz you’ve got a massive crush on him,” said Harriet. She leaned back on her hands and grinned as Marrow squeaked again. “Aw, come on, Marrow. I’m not usually a romantic, but it’s kinda cute to watch you pine.”

“Agreed,” said Elm. “Reminds me of my favourite movies.”

Marrow groaned and put his face in his hands. “Can we not?”

“I think we should talk about this,” said Vine. “I was not aware you had feelings for Clover.” Vine looked at Elm. “Does Clover feel similarly?”

Elm shrugged. “No idea.”

“Yeah, I don’t think _Clover_ knows how he feels,” said Harriet with a snort. “He’s a great leader, don’t get me wrong, but _fuck_ is he the densest bastard I’ve ever met. Dance naked in front of him and he’d ask you if you wanted a sweater and all that.”

Qrow raised both eyebrows. “Isn’t he a slut?” At Harriet’s raised eyebrow, he added, “Your words.”

“I mean, yeah,” said Harriet, lifting one hand to wave off his words. “But he only sees you as a conquest if you’re not in his circle. Doesn’t touch friends or close co-workers. Not after we got blacklisted from two of the docking bays because he kept banging all the soldiers in them.”

Qrow winced. “That seems like it’d end badly.”

“It has,” said Elm. She sighed. “I don’t understand why people hold such strong grudges against Clover.”

Harriet grinned. “Yeah, I bet Marrow would be happy to be his latest conquest.”

“You’re not wrong,” mumbled Marrow. He lifted his face from his hands and sighed. “But… I dunno. That’s not what I want?” His tail swayed behind him. “I don’t _want_ to be a conquest. I want…” He hesitated.

“You want to be the one who stops the conquests,” said Qrow. He knew that sort of want. It was the same thing Raven and Summer had wanted from Taiyang. They’d wanted to stop the cycle. To become the _reason_ he didn’t need to search anymore.

Huh. Taiyang and Clover having something in common? There was an idea. Past conquests. Humour to hide the pain. Taking on the weight of the world and pretending they didn’t. A mask that hid just how good they were at what they did…

Yeah. Yeah, Qrow could see it.

“Yeah,” said Marrow, a dopey smile on his face. He looked at Qrow. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. How’d you know?”

Qrow shrugged. “Seen it before.” He shifted, throwing one arm over a raised knee and leaning toward Marrow. “So, you got a plan?”

Marrow ducked his head. “No! It’s not like that. I’m not gonna try and change Clover’s life. I just… I’m happy to be where I am.”

Yeah. Qrow could relate to that.

Fuck. Like looking in a younger mirror.

Before anyone could continue, the door burst open and Clover came striding in, bags and take-out containers balanced precariously in his arms. He grinned as he strode toward them.

“I got food,” said Clover, laughing. He bounced a little with each step and came toward the table. Harriet and Elm were on their feet in a moment and helped distribute everything around the table. Qrow got his beef and rice, hell yeah.

“I owe you anything?” asked Qrow, reaching for his wallet.

Clover shook his head. “Nah, nah. I invited you. Don’t worry about it.” He dropped back into his seat. “I miss anything?”

Qrow glanced at Marrow.

“Nah,” said Qrow. “Just making fun of you.”

“Bonding! I can appreciate that,” said Clover.

“Good,” said Harriet. “Now take off your pants.”

Laughter filled the room and Qrow’s cheeks hurt from how much he was grinning. It was a good night and, hopefully, he’d get to see James when he got back to the apartment.

* * *

They didn’t end up returning to the circle or its discussions, instead choosing to get dinner, because everyone was hungry. The first floor of the academy had a massive cafeteria/mess that was meant for all the students, but General Ironwood had told Ruby and everyone else that they were welcome to it.

So, that was where they ended up, all of them in pyjamas and sweats, grabbing food and tucking themselves into one of the massive, semi-circle booths that was pressed into one corner of the sprawling, multi-room mess.

Ruby liked it better than the long cafeteria tables at Beacon. This was cozier, and it let you get away from all the noise and people (and food fights).

“You know,” said Weiss, once they were all pressed into the booth, Penny on one side of Ruby and Weiss on the other. Penny had nothing with her, but she’d borrowed one of Nora’s little fidget toys and was twisting the plastic links over and over. “We never actually got around to talking about _your_ problems.”

“What?” Ruby drew out the word and rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. “I don’t think we talked about most of us.”

Weiss propped an elbow on the table and poked Ruby with her other hand. “Ruby Rose. You may have figured out what was bothering all of us, but none of us have had a chance to talk to _you_ about _your_ problems.” Weiss narrowed her eyes. “We’re going to talk about that.”

Ruby shrunk down in her seat. “Uh, maybe we should take a break from talking about heavy stuff for today? We all have a limit to our daily compassion, Weiss. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone.” She shrunk further.

“ _Ruby Rose_.”

Ruby swallowed, eyes darting, and _thank heck_ , there was a distraction. “Look it’s Team FNKI! Hi, Neon!” She shot up in her seat and waved at Neon, Flynt, and two unfamiliar faces that were just wacky looking enough to be the other members of Team FNKI. Neon waved and roller skated over to the group, shoving herself in next to Weiss with a grin.

“Hey, Team…” Neon looked over all of them. “What are we calling you guys now?”

“RRAYNBOW,” said Weiss.

“Gay,” chimed Neon.

Blake snorted. “Well, so are we, so.” She shrugged.

Neon wolf-whistled. “ _Loving_ the hair,” she said, to Blake, then to Weiss, “and you are just the cutest thing with the short hair and the sweats. Mmm.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Could eat you up.”

Ruby groaned. Okay. Maybe this was a terrible mistake. Well, at least she didn’t have to talk now. And Weiss was blushing and spluttering things that weren’t real words, so she was at least distracted. That was a win. Woo.

Penny leaned in close to Ruby and whispered near her ear. “You do need to talk about your problems.”

Ruby sighed. “I know, I know. Later, though. We just got done dealing with lots of other stuff. I can wait.”

Penny frowned, visible in the corner of Ruby’s vision. “I do not think that’s true.”

“So,” said Neon, voice loud. “Who is the _adorable_ little guy over there?” She wiggled her fingers at Oscar. “I’ve seen you in some of the first-year classes. Y’know, when I roll by.” She winked. “You seem a little young to be here. Are you another secret prodigy, like Ruby?”

“Uh.” Oscar was blushing. “I’m Oscar. I’m sorta…” He looked at Jaune, who rested a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and smiled.

“He was our fourth, before we became one team.”

A somber tone came over the booth. Food, forgotten. Voices, silent.

Neon drooped. “Yeah, I guess you needed one, huh?” She gave a little smile. “Glad you found him.” She turned her gaze to the group as a whole. “Okay, so, guys, this is Ivori and Kobalt,” she gestured to the two standing near Neon, “our other teammates.”

“Hey,” said Jaune.

Ivori’s gaze flicked across them all and he winked at Jaune. Jaune’s ears turned red and he cleared his throat, looking away. Nora grinned.

“How come we haven’t met you guys before?” asked Nora, looking between the two. “We all had bets going back at Beacon who the other two members of FNKI were.” She propped her chin in her hands, elbows on the table. “Where were you?”

Ivori chuckled. His voice was smooth and soft, around the same pitch as Jaune’s but much gentler. Like a singer.

“After our full team match, I had to come back to Atlas for surgery,” said Ivori. “Kobalt’s my partner in all things, so he came with me for moral support.”

“In all things?” echoed Yang. Kobalt stepped forward and slipped an arm around Ivori’s waist. “Oooooh.”

“Surgery?” asked Jaune, furrowing his brow. “Are you okay?”

Ivori lifted one hand, pulling his shirt toward his armpit by its deep v-neck. A pink scar that traced the bottom of his pecs stared back at them. He shrugged and released his shirt after a few seconds, letting it fall back into place.

“Top surgery. Very routine. But, I needed someone around to grab things for me.” He cast a look over his tinted glasses at Kobalt. “Kobalt is very chivalrous like that.”

Kobalt rolled his eyes, cheeks dusted pink. “Yeah, yeah.”

Ruby smiled. Cool. More trans friends. She saw the soft look on Jaune and Oscar’s faces.

“Oh wow,” said Jaune, and the longing in his voice had Ruby’s throat closing in sympathy. “Is that—does Atlas do that sort of thing often? Is it hard to get on a list?” His voice wobbled. “Does-does aura help with the recovery time?” He turned red. “Um, sorry. That’s probably really personal.” He shrunk in his seat. “Sorry.”

Understanding flickered across Ivori’s expression with a gentle smile and a shift of his brow that reminded Ruby of Ozpin, whenever they noticed something.

“It’s very routine, and if you’re a student at the academy, or a member of the military, then it’s free, as well,” said Ivori. He slipped out of Kobalt’s arm and sat down next to Neon, leaning forward on the table. Ruby watched the way he moved. He looked at Jaune with such an intense expression that she doubted Ivori, or Jaune, could see anyone else.

Ivori glanced to Kobalt, who rolled his eyes and crossed the space to sit down next to Flynt, who clapped him on the shoulder.

“The list isn’t long, and it’s very easy to get on. You simply need to ask a doctor, the on-campus ones are quite adept.” Ivori’s words were quiet, but they filled the silence of the crowded space. “And yes, aura helps, but you’ll still be down for a few weeks.” A little smile creased his mouth. “You’re free to add me on your Scroll if you have more questions.”

“Uh, wow, t-thank you,” said Jaune, slowly pulling himself back up into the booth, proper. Then, turning bright red, he looked around at everyone. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, distract everyone. I just… got excited.”

Ren smiled and rested a hand on Jaune’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Jaune. You’re allowed to be excited about these things.”

Neon looked at Nora. “Yeah, I stand by what I said back at Beacon. Your boyfriend is the best part of your team.” She waggled her eyebrows at Nora. “You got lucky, girl.”

Ren stiffened.

“Ren’s not my boyfriend,” said Nora, waving her hands in front of her. “Not that we’re not dating, we _are_ dating. I mean, we just started dating, but—” Nora rubbed the back of her neck.

Jaune cut in. “Ren’s not a boy.”

Neon’s eyes went wide. “Shit, for real? I am like, _so_ sorry. I totally didn’t know.”

Flynt leaned around Oscar and Jaune to look at Ren. “That recent?”

“Fairly,” murmured Ren. “Sort of… told everyone a couple hours ago.”

Flynt’s eyebrows shot up. “ _Damn_. Way to go, Ren. You’re a brave one.”

“Pronouns?” asked Ivori.

“They/them,” mumbled Ren, staring at the table. “Not… used to this yet.”

“Ah, that’s cool. We won’t make a deal if you don’t want us to,” said Neon. She clapped her hands together. “So, let’s change the subject. How come none of you have told us you’ve been in Atlas for a while?” She folded her arms and pouted at the team, mostly at Ruby, who pressed her back into the booth. “We could have sparred! And how come you guys aren’t in class?”

Yang spoke up. “We’re not students. We’re professional hunters, now.”

FNKI stared.

“You’re not serious,” said Neon. “We’re _kids._ ” She looked at Flynt. “Did you know this?” He nodded. “ _Fuck me._ ” She flopped back against the booth seat and shook her head, staring at the ceiling. “O-m-g, you guys must know something _big_ for Ironwood to promote you so fast. He _hates_ child soldiers.”

Yang snorted. “So, what’s his excuse for Penny?”

“Technically, I was designed by my father to look this way. I do not have a real age, because I wasn’t born, I was made. And if I was made for a purpose, I should fulfill that purpose,” said Penny. “What is wrong with that?”

Yang opened her mouth, closed it, and huffed. “Damn. I don’t think there’s a good response to that.”

“Not a combative one, anyway,” said Blake, tone dry. “You _can_ just agree and say you’re sorry.”

Yang puffed out her cheeks. “I still don’t know how I feel about Ironwood.”

Blake frowned and Ruby stepped in before anyone could start a fight.

“That’s okay,” said Ruby. “You’re allowed to be skeptical of people you don’t know, especially ones in power like Ironwood.” She folded her hands on the table. “Just, y’know, treat him the way he treats you until proven otherwise?”

Yang stuck out her lower lip and nodded, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, I can do that.” Ruby sagged. Woo. Another problem solved before it got bad. Awesome.

“So, like, what do you guys think about General Ironwood marrying that huntsman guy?” asked Neon. She twirled a finger in the air. “He seems kinda strange, but I can totes see why General Ironwood is into him. He’s cute for an old guy.”

Ruby grimaced. “Bleh.”

“What?” asked Neon.

Yang gave her a flat look. “Neon, that’s our _uncle._ ”

Neon blinked. “Really?”

“No fooling?” asked Flynt, leaning forward on the table. “Damn, dog, that’s pretty wild. That makes you two Atlas elite, yeah? No wonder you’ve got your licenses.”

“We got our licenses because we’re _good_ ,” said Yang. The temperature rose. Ruby sighed. So much for solving problems before they got bad. “Not because our uncle is fucking the general.”

Neon raised her eyebrows. “Um. I’ve seen pictures of your uncle. He’s like, a twig. There’s no way _he’s_ the one doing the—”

“That’s enough!” The table cracked around the edges as Yang slammed her fists down on it. “We are _not_ talking about my uncle having _sex._ ” Her eyes flared red.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” said Neon, shrinking. “No need to yell.” She bounced, tail swinging high behind her. “O-m-g, now that you’re hunters, do you wanna have a rematch? Pick your best four and we’ll take you on.” She phantom-boxed in front of her. “We’ll kick your asses into next week.”

Blake raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t Yang take you both on just by getting _mad_?”

Flynt ran his thumb and fingers around the brim of his hat. “Hey, that was then and this is now. We’re tougher, and we’ve got Kobalt and Ivori this time.”

“Yeah, and Ivori’s semblance is totally awesome,” said Neon, eyes sparkling. Rainbow glitter floated off of her and hung in the air, suspended like it was frozen in time. “We could handle you.” Neon wiggled. “We’re like, _basically_ the modern Atlas version of Team STRQ.”

Ruby’s ears rang. The whole world zeroed in. Neon had _not_ just said that. How did she know about Team STRQ? What did that even _mean_ , her knowing about Team STRQ?

About their parents?

“What did you say?” asked Yang, and she sounded as shocked as Ruby felt. Ruby opened her mouth, closed it, and kept going, trying not to stare, and ended up gaping like a fish. “Did you say STRQ?”

“Yeah, why?” asked Neon.

“That’s our parents,” whispered Ruby, vision blurring. “W-what do you know about our parents?”

Neon looked across the table, to Flynt, then they both turned to look at Ivori and Kobalt. All eyes fell on Ruby. Weiss took Ruby’s hand atop the table, curling their fingers together and squeezing. Her hand was cold. Every other part of Ruby was burning up.

“They were legends,” said Neon. “The best team to ever graduate Beacon. Or, any academy.”

Kobalt added, “They set records that have never been beaten. When you look at the top scores of any test, any practical, its always ‘STRQ’. Some of the best teams to ever come out of AA are because they chased STRQ.”

“Yeah,” said Flynt. “Team RBYN is one of the best and they graduated top of their class. They chased STRQ.”

Ivori added, “Yes, but so did CLVR, and look how they turned out.”

“Robyn? Clover?” echoed Ruby. “You mean Robyn Hill and Clover Ebi?”

Again, FNKI exchanged a look. Ruby frowned.

“Someone wanna tell me what’s going on?” asked Oscar. “I don’t know what any of those names—” He stopped, eyes glassing over. Rapid blinking, mouth opening and closing, fingers twitching enough to move his shoulders. A minute passed, no one spoke, everyone stared, then he jerked, exhaled, and his eyes came back into focus.

“Is… he okay?” asked Neon, sounding panicked.

Ruby wasn’t nearly a good enough liar for this.

“Seizure,” murmured Ren, reaching behind Jaune to touch Oscar on the shoulder. “Mostly absence. Are you all right?”

Oscar had a hand to the side of his head. He was frowning, eyes still unfocused. “Fine,” he said, voice soft. “I…” He shook his head. He looked at Ruby. “We should talk, later.”

“Okay,” said Ruby, frowning. Seizure. That was a good excuse. Now, if only they all knew what seizure aftercare looked like. Still, Jaune was whispering something to Oscar, checking his eyes, gently turning his head one way and then the other. So, maybe he _did_ know something about it.

Neon sighed. “Wow. You guys are super dramatic.” Then, cocking her head. “Hey, wait, if STRQ was your parents, and the husband is your uncle, that means…”

“Uncle Qrow was the Q in STRQ,” said Ruby. “Yeah.”

Neon’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. He’s like, my favorite huntsman _ever_. Do you know where he is? Can I get his autograph?”

“Neon,” said Kobalt, with a sigh.

“Oh! Right, totally forgot, I wanted to ask you guys if you wanted to come dancing with us tomorrow,” said Neon, twirling her hands in the air. “There’s this awesome dance club in Mantle that’s totally chill with faunus and we were all gonna go party.” She wiggled her hips. “Y’know, if you have time off.”

“We do,” said Yang. “But—”

“I’d love to,” said Blake with a smile. “I haven’t been dancing in so long and…” She looked at Neon. “Well, you know.” She shrugged.

“Totally,” said Neon. “Took us _forever_ to find a place that didn’t shit all over me. Actually, one of the Ace-Ops, Marrow? He gave us the name of the place.”

“Marrow’s nice,” said Jaune. “He brings me coffee some mornings.”

“And he’s cute,” said Nora, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Not my type,” said Neon, with a shrug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, guys are _hot_ , but…” She cast a glance to Weiss and grinned, revealing sharp canine teeth. “I’ve always had a thing for those out of reach.”

Weiss turned bright red.

“I’ll come dancing too,” said Yang, pushing forward on the table. “Y’know, I like clubbing. And it’s not like we’re doing anything else.” She looked at Blake, who smiled, cheeks dusted pink.

“I think that sounds nice.”

Weiss scowled. “I’ll come too.” She flipped her hair and it smacked her in the chin. “It’ll be nice to hang out somewhere that isn’t covered in Atlas’ stink.”

Neon grinned. “Awesome! We’ll see you tomorrow night, then. I’ll send you the deets.” She hopped to her feet. “Now, I’m gonna go check General Ironwood’s office for Mr. Branwen. I _so_ can’t wait to get his autograph!” She hopped over Ivori and hit the ground, feet already sliding for her rollerblades. She was gone, zooming away.

Flynt sighed. “She never changes.”

“You love her,” said Ivori.

“Yeah,” said Flynt. He nudged Kobalt’s shoulder. All three men stood. “All right. We should get going. Make sure Neon doesn’t accidentally kill your uncle. Later.” He flashed a peace sign, grinned, and strode after Neon, Kobalt and Ivori behind him.

“Nice meeting you all,” called Ivori, before he was out of sight.

The booth was silent for a minute before someone spoke.

“I can’t believe our parents really _were_ famous,” said Yang. “I always thought Qrow was just joking.”

Ruby ran a hand back through her hair and rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, it makes sense. The more he jokes about it, the less likely we are to check on it. Uncle Qrow’s _always_ done that to keep us from asking questions.”

Yang groaned and flopped her head back, smacking her head off the back of the booth. “Ugh. We’re still not being told everything.”

“Uncle Qrow _said_ he’d explain things when we get back from our time off,” said Ruby. Please don’t start another fight. Ruby loved Yang, but she was just. So tired. And Yang was willing to fight when all Ruby wanted to do was nap. “You can ask him everything, then.”

“What did you see?” asked Ren, to Oscar. “That was a memory, wasn’t it?”

Oscar nodded. He slumped against Jaune, eyes mostly closed. “Hurts,” he mumbled. Jaune soothed his fingers through Oscar’s hair and both their aura glowed. Oscar’s eyes fluttered open. “That feels nice. How are you doing that?”

Jaune shrugged. “I figured that if I can boost aura to heal bodies, it might work on whatever is happening to you?”

“It does,” agreed Oscar. He hummed and closed his eyes. “I saw your parents being given their team name. Your mom looks a lot like you, Ruby.”

Ruby nodded. “I’ve seen pictures,” she said. “Thank you.”

“If I see anything else, I’ll let you know,” said Oscar.

Ruby put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. “Okay. We’re not going to get any answers before we ask Uncle Qrow about everything in a couple days. So, we can’t drive ourselves crazy. Tomorrow is our last day off.” She lifted her head. Her heart pounded in her chest and her mouth was dry and tacky. “What is everyone doing tomorrow night?” They’d already planned the day. The day was going to be team-building stuff and Weiss was working on her outfit in-between.

But the night, bar dancing with FNKI, was free.

“Oscar and I are gonna go to the movies. They’re doing a marathon of all the Space Wars movies,” said Jaune. “He’s never seen the originals, just the prequels, so I wanted him to see them.”

“I mean, it looks like three of us are going dancing,” said Yang. “So, that’ll be fun.” A pause, then, “Oh, we should make sure to wear club outfits. Do you have any good clothes for that, Weiss?”

“No, but I _do_ know a lot of places that sell great clothes and do same-day tailoring. We could do that around dinner time,” said Weiss. “We do have money now.”

Blake’s ears flattened. “Someone will come with me, right? I don’t want to get tailoring done without backup.” Her voice was barely above a murmur.

“Of course,” said Yang. “I’ll punch a transphobe.” A pause. “If you want.”

“We’ll see,” said Blake.

“Ren and I are going on our first date,” said Nora, poking her fingers together in front of her chest. Her cheeks were red, and she stared at her hands. “They found a little café down in Mantle that we’re going to try. It has baked goods.”

Ren smiled at her. “I’ll end up broke, but it’ll be worth it.”

Nora rolled her eyes. “I have money too.”

“I asked. I pay. When you pick the place, you can pay,” said Ren.

Nora grinned. “Deal.”

“I’m working,” said Penny. “Robyn Hill is campaigning tomorrow night with her Happy Huntresses. She asked me to help.”

“She _asked_ you?” asked Ruby, raising her eyebrows. The only time she’d ever met Robyn, she’d been very rude to Penny.

Penny nodded. “Robyn said that if Atlas is going to keep its promises, then she should try, too.” She tilted her head. “I don’t know what I have to do with that, but if Robyn wants to be friends, I am happy to extend my hand as well.” She beamed at Ruby and Ruby smiled back. “What are you going to do?”

“Uh…” Ruby looked around at her friends and caught Oscar’s eye. He smiled. “Can I… go to the movies with you two?”

“Sure!” said Jaune. “Do you like Space Wars?”

Ruby replied, “Um. I like the orange girl, with the horns.”

“Alola Tallow!” said Oscar. “I love her.”

Jaune sighed. “You guys have no taste.”

“The prequels were far gayer,” said Yang.

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair,” said Jaune.

Ruby listened as Yang and Jaune descended into a friendly argument about the six Space Wars movies – Yang liked the prequels, Jaune liked the originals – and ate her dinner while leaning into Penny. Penny smiled at her and put an arm around her shoulders as they sat together.

Once again, her mind was a roil of emotions, thoughts, and confusion. Her parents were famous? They held records? Why had no one ever told her? And what was going on with Weiss? And why did Neon like Uncle Qrow so much?

There were so many questions and all Ruby wanted to do was sleep. Preferably in Penny’s arms.

At least they still had another day off before everything kicked off again.

* * *

James had turned off most of the lights in his office over an hour ago, turning his office into a makeshift art display. Constellations arced across the ceiling and raced down the wall furthest from him, where the door to his office was, then raced across the floor and back to him. From time to time, he looked up from his work, tracing the glowing stars with his eyes and mouthing the names of the constellations they formed.

Beautiful.

But, the distraction wasn’t helping him finish all this work. There were coding upgrades he needed to check over and approve, shipments to Mantle that he needed to double-check – he’d noticed that two officers were changing the supply lists before they got to him. He’d already marked them for disciplinary action and a hearing. If he could prove why they were doing it, and he knew why, they’d be fired – as well as assignments he’d agreed to look over for his students.

Not to mention, council nonsense. He had a great deal of work he needed to pass off to Qrow, and explain to him, but that would come later. Qrow was taking the evening off and, if James could stop being distracted for five minutes, he’d be watching a movie with Qrow, later tonight. He’d already picked it out, a cheesy spy romance that he knew Qrow would love.

The thought brought a smile to his face.

A rapping at the door brought James back to the present. He grimaced at the few minutes he’d lost, thinking about Qrow, and looked up to find Winter standing in the doorway.

“Winter,” said James, voice warm. She wasn’t as prim as he was used to, her hair in a ponytail rather than a bun and her jacket off and folded over one arm. “What can I do for you?”

“I noticed your office lights were…,” she paused and looked at the few lamps that were set to dim, as well as the glow of the constellations, “glowing,” she said, after a moment. “Are you still working?”

James nodded and sighed. “Unfortunately.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, aware, now, of the grit in his eyes. “Did you need something?”

“To offer you some assistance,” said Winter, striding across the room. “What can I do to help?”

“Winter,” said James, giving her his best firm look. By the twitch on the side of her mouth, he failed. “You deserve to take the night off. Go, rest, have fun.”

Winter shrugged with one shoulder. “My sister is busy, what few companions I have are not answering my messages, and I’d rather be useful and spend time with someone I enjoy the company of than sit alone in an apartment all night.” Her ears turned red and she cleared her throat. “Sir.”

James smiled, despite his tiredness, despite his workload. He gestured to the chair nearest his desk and nodded to Winter.

“Well then, take a seat,” said James. “Would you like to look at sabotaged shipping manifests by racist officers, or badly spelled assignments by nervous first years?”

“I’ll take the racist shipping manifests,” said Winter, drily, as she sat. James tapped his Scroll and sent the information her way. A moment later, her Scroll beeped and she pulled it out, settling in to work next to him. “Hauser? Isn’t he the one you have set for court martialling, next week?”

“Him and Leons,” said James, with a nod. “This isn’t the first time they’ve pulled something like this and I might finally have the proof I need to discharge the both of them.”

Winter scoffed. “I’ve never liked Leons. He made a habit of making his views on my… _life choices_ , rather clear.”

James started. He hadn’t known that. He lifted one hand and rested it atop one of Winter’s. She looked up from her Scroll.

“I didn’t know that,” said James. “Winter, I’m so sorry. If I’d known—”

Winter cut him off. “I can fight my own battles, sir.”

James nodded. “I know. You’re one of the best, and I’d not have anyone else at my side in your place. But, you don’t have to fight your battles alone. I want to help, and I know the Ace-Ops do as well.” He frowned, furrowing his brow. “Beyond that, if Leons is being a bigot, he is breaking military code, and I can and will have him thrown out. I’m trying to fix the military, Winter, and I can’t do it alone.”

Winter sighed. She set down her Scroll and rubbed at her left shoulder with one arm. It must have been acting up again. It always did in the damp season, ever since she’d injured it during her time at the academy.

“It’s not up to me to call out every bigot in the military, sir,” said Winter. “Sometimes, I’d rather exist as the others do, instead of using my status to push myself even further away from the rest of the Specialists.”

James hadn’t thought about it like that. He knew, logically, that Winter’s status as his right-hand made her an outcast to the rest of the army, but he never considered just how deep that rift went. Not to mention, to his knowledge, Winter was one of the few openly transgender soldiers in the military – Vine being the other that James saw the most often. Yet, while Vine made the conscious decision to come out, Winter had had that taken away from her long before she joined the military.

Nor had he considered that she might get tired of calling out bigotry and injustice, being the one to always be responsible for it. James was, in many ways, in a similar position. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d called out Camilla and Sleet’s bigoted words. It was exhausting. And he wasn’t part of half the groups they hated.

It must have been much worse for Winter.

“I’m sorry,” said James, after a minute, “I hadn’t considered that. You’re right, it’s not your responsibility to take on the entire military.”

Winter smiled and James removed his hand. “Thank you, sir.”

They returned to their work. James found himself smiling as he marked down notes in the margins of the various assignments he read. He wasn’t teaching a class, this year, due to everything that was going on, but so many students had asked for his help with proofreading and essay feedback that he couldn’t bear to completely turn them away. Nor could he say no to any student willing to send in their work early for him to look over. They worked hard, his students, and he wanted them to be ready for the world that awaited them, once the war was done and they’d finally graduated.

Some time passed as James alternated between military work and reading assignments.

“Sir?” asked Winter, after almost an hour.

“Yes?” James was in the middle of a particularly interesting essay by Ivori of Team FNKI. He was a fantastic writer, but he always sent his essays to James, regardless. Most of them were on social issues in Atlas and James had used more than a few of them as starting points for several of his own missions in reforming Atlas.

“How do you feel about Qrow?”

James set down his Scroll.

“Beg your pardon?” asked James, blinking a few times.

Winter looked up from her Scroll, her expression as cool as her name, and arched a single eyebrow. “The marriage between yourself and Qrow is rather… unconventional, and while I recognize the so-called necessity of such an arrangement, I cannot help but wonder at your feelings toward him.”

“Qrow is my friend, Winter,” said James slowly. “I’m not sure I know what you’re implying.”

Winter set down her Scroll and clasped her hands together in front of her. “Very well, I’ll make this clear as I can. Are you in love with him, sir?”

James startled, eyes going wide and hands reflexively falling open before dropping fully to his desk. _Ah._ He should have known Winter would be the first to ask this question. No one else in his inner circle had her keen eye for relationships or for reading body language and micro-expressions.

“No, Winter, I’m not,” said James. Then, because Winter deserved the full truth, and because he had no one else to talk to about this, he continued with, “Or rather, I don’t _think_ I am. Not yet, at least.”

Winter furrowed her brow. “Sir?”

James sighed and turned his hands over, palm up, and stared at them. How to explain this?

“Do you know how I got my prosthetics, Winter?” asked James.

“No,” said Winter, shaking her head. “I presumed it was a hunting accident, sir.”

James sighed a second time. “It was. When I was younger, I was much more reckless, and while I’d already lost my arm, I hadn’t learned my lesson.” He grimaced. “I went on a solo mission that I shouldn’t have. Qrow happened to be in the area. When things went south…” The taste of blood on his tongue and the smell of death and decay thick in the area. The screams of Grimm in the sky and all around. “He saved me, Winter. If not for Qrow, I’d be dead.” He shook his head. “Qrow has always been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Winter frowned. She opened her mouth and James shook his head to silence her. He wasn’t done. He wanted her to understand.

“Qrow has done so much for me,” said James, “and in many ways, especially for that day, I feel indebted to him.” He closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale. “While I care for Qrow, I don’t know if my feelings for him, the stronger ones, are due to my own heart, or due to the obligation, the debt, I feel to him.” James opened his eyes. The constellations on his ceiling twinkled down at him. He’d told Qrow some of those stars, but never all of them. There weren’t enough nights in a lifetime to tell him about all the stars. “Qrow saved my life Winter, and when I woke up, he was the first person to look at me as though I were still a _person_ , and not a machine.” James stared down at his gloved hands and pressed his lips together. “And when I went through all of my recovery, he treated me like a person, like I was still myself. I’ll never forget that.”

Winter watched him with a soft look and a furrowed brow.

James cleared his throat, ears burning. “So, I don’t know how to answer that question, Winter. I care for him, deeply, and in ways I struggle to bring to words, but I don’t know how those feelings came to be, nor do I know if they’re real, or if they’re a product of something else.”

Winter nodded, slow, after a few seconds had passed and it became clear James was done. Or, so James assumed, anyway.

Then, “With respect, sir, I think that’s a load of crap.”

James started, blinking hard. “Beg your pardon?”

“While your feelings for Qrow may have started out of some form of obligation or debt, that doesn’t negate their existence or their validity,” said Winter. She crossed one leg over the other and laced her fingers together over her raised knee. “To dismiss those feelings simply because of where they _started_ is to dismiss the growth you and those feelings might have had since their origins.”

James blinked a few times. “That’s… very insightful, Winter.”

Winter tilted her head, slightly, to one side. “I know what you’re going through, sir, though in a much different way. My own fondness for you, though much different than your feelings for Qrow, began because you saved me. But to dismiss how those feelings of grown, and how I view you now, simply because of where they started, would be a great disservice to both myself and our relationship.”

James smiled, chest warm. It was rare for Winter to acknowledge that their bond went deeper than simply her being part of his inner circle, and his right-hand. He’d never had children. But, if he had, he would have wanted them to be like Winter.

“Thank you, Winter. That means a lot to me.”

Winter cleared her throat, lifting one hand to cover her face as her cheeks bloomed pink. “My point, sir, is that you and Qrow, as well as your relationship, has changed since the times he has helped you.” Saved him, but he understood what she was saying.

“You shouldn’t dismiss your feelings. You should look into them,” she said.

James raised an eyebrow. “I must say, I’m surprised to hear you say these things, considering you’ve never seemed to like Qrow.”

Winter sighed and dipped her head forward. She grimaced, head tilting, before raising her head to meet James’ gaze. “He’s a renegade; a reckless, headstrong, self-sabotaging _fool_.” Well, he couldn’t argue with that. “And… it bothered me, how such a man could be so close to you. I thought he was sabotaging your own life.”

James blinked. “Oh.”

“Now, I realize he does a great deal for you, and that his… lifestyle choices,” James bit his tongue, “have their reasons for existing. While I’m not sure how I feel about him, I know he’s an important part of your life, and to dismiss that, or try to separate you both, would be a grave error.” She looked at him, cleared her throat, and added, “Sir.”

“Thank you, Winter,” said James, with a nod. It was good to hear these things from the outside. To know that he wasn’t imagining things when he mused over the bond between himself and Qrow. Qrow was his closest friend, the closest he’d ever had, and that included his teammates, back in Atlas Academy. He’d be lying if he said he’d never considered how deep that bond could go, how much it could shift and transform if he took a leap of faith.

He’d caught himself imagining, once or twice since Qrow had come to Atlas, that he and Qrow had to share a room, a bed, rather than just an apartment. The thought kept him warm, cheeks burning, when the chill of Atlas threatened to seep into his bones.

“I’ll give these feelings more thought, then,” said James. His gaze slid to the ceiling and he traced the constellations with his eyes. An idea struck him, then, and a slow, soft smile spread on his face. Hadn’t Qrow said he wanted James to take a night off? And wasn’t tomorrow the last night off everyone had?

Qrow was always willing to listen to James talk about the stars, and the planetarium had just opened a new viewing room. They could go there. Not a date, like they’d both joked the dinner was, but something quieter, more intimate.

More personal and private.

“Of course, sir, happy to help,” said Winter, with a nod.

Before the two could say anything more, there was a rapid, vigorous knocking at the office door. James and Winter glanced at one another. Were they expecting anyone? He didn’t think so. And his office hours had ended hours ago.

“Come in,” called James.

The door came open and in rolled Neon Katt, vibrant colours bursting from her like fireworks on a holiday. James relaxed into his seat and smiled. By the grin on her face and the light in her eyes, things were fine.

“Ah, Miss Katt,” said James, clasping his hands together on his desk. “What can I do for you?”

Neon hopped up the step-up in the office and beamed at him, arms out as she spun in a circle. “I heard from a cutie that your husband is one of the members of Team STRQ!” She bounced around, which was even more impressive, considering she was on rollerblades, and giggled. “Is he here? Can I meet him? Can I get his autograph?”

James shook his head, still smiling. “It’s nice to see you too, Miss Katt,” he said, drily. “I would very much like to know why you care which team Qrow is from.”

“Well, _duh_ ,” said Neon, waving her arms in the air. “Team STRQ is only _the_ coolest team to ever come out of an academy and they only set the _most_ records of any team _ever_.” She put her hands on her hips, tail swishing behind her as she swayed back and forth on her rollerblades. “We’re not, like, the first team to try and follow in their totally awesome footsteps.”

James’ smile turned small. “No, you’re not,” he agreed, tone amiable enough. He’d hoped to prevent anymore teams from chasing after STRQ’s legend. CLVR and RBYN weren’t the first teams to be hurt chasing STRQ’s legacy and they certainly wouldn’t be the last. He only hoped that FNKI wouldn’t follow in their tragic footsteps. “Unfortunately, Qrow isn’t here. He’s taking a few days off, like many others.”

Neon nodded. “Oh yeah, that makes sense. I saw all your new hunters down in the mess.” New hunters? Ah, the kids. RRAYNBOW. “Love the team name, by the way.”

“Thank you,” said James. He was quite proud of it, himself.

“Okay, so like, when he gets back, could I talk to him?” asked Neon, eyes sparkling. “Please, please, please, please, please?” She curled her hands, sort of like paws, beneath her chin and beamed at him.

James sighed. “I’ll talk to him,” he said. “But I make no promises, Miss Katt. Qrow is a private man, and I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair,” said Neon. She rolled backward, hopped down the lip, and wheeled back toward the door with a smooth ease that James had never seen in anyone else, not even on foot. “But like, keep me posted, okay?” He nodded. “Oh! And General Ironwood?”

“Yes, Miss Katt?”

Neon smiled, and it was warm and soft in a way he hadn’t seen from her before. “I’m happy for you.”

“Pardon?” He blinked. What for?

“I mean, I totally get that the world isn’t doing so great, right now, but you got your husband back and he’s in Atlas helping out now,” said Neon. “And, I dunno, you just seem happier. I’m sorry you got outed, but it’s so awesome to know that you have someone.” She bounced a little. “Like, you do so much for all of us. You deserve to be happy, y’know?”

James sucked in a quiet breath, chest tight. “Thank you, Miss Katt,” he said, and he couldn’t keep the tightness from his voice.

“You’re welcome! Anyway, goodnight. And goodnight Miss Schnee, stay badass.” Neon winked.

“Goodnight, Neon,” said Winter, with a nod. Then, Neon was gone, the door swinging shut behind her.

James leaned back in his chair and let out a slow, shaky exhale. It wasn’t the first time someone had commented that he’d seemed better, happier, since Qrow had come to Atlas. But it _was_ the first time someone who didn’t know the truth about the situation had. And with his thoughts on his feelings toward Qrow so close to the surface, Neon’s words had dragged against those thoughts, pulling at them.

“Are you all right, sir?” asked Winter.

James cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Winter.” He needed more time to think, but he also needed to do his job. He’d run this over in his head, another night. “Now, let’s go over those manifests.”

Winter nodded. “Of course, sir.”

* * *

It was a cold, wet night in the streets of Mantle, but most nights were cold and wet in this blasted, forgotten city. Arthur moved through the city, umbrella clutched in one hand, and tried to avoid the puddles as he walked. Tyrian stalked in the shadows behind him, sometimes at his side, sometimes trailing behind. The edges of the city were cast in shadows from the wall, rather than the lumbering behemoth of Atlas. Arthur kept his attention on the wall and on his Scroll, clutched in his other hand. He’d done the calculations, found the weakened parts of the wall.

This was the third spot he’d come to, tonight.

It was late, late enough that no one was on the streets, and the wall was cloaked in shadows too deep for the streetlamps to penetrate.

Taking a deep breath, and attempting to ignore the wretched smell of pollution, garbage, and despair, Arthur approached the wall. He tucked his Scroll into his jacket pocket and splayed his hand on the cold, wet bricks.

It had been years since he’d attempted this trick – not since he’d still entertained the notion of heroes and huntsmen – and he’d never attempted so many spots in one night. But his aura was stronger than it had been in his youth, and it wasn’t as though he was using it for anything else, at the moment.

Tyrian could protect him, if the situation called for it.

Closing his eyes, Arthur cast his aura into the bricks beneath his hands. Slowly, the energy in the air changed, the smell of despair grew, and his aura leeched from his cells as it clung to the grimy bricks.

When he opened his eyes, nothing had changed, but he could feel the swirling spot of aura and discord that spun before him.

He took a step back and slipped in a puddle, arms flailing and umbrella going flying. Before he could fall, Tyrian caught him in his arms, tail sweeping out from under his jacket to catch his umbrella.

“Are you all right, doctor?” asked Tyrian, raising an eyebrow.

The world was unfocused, blurry, and it spun in slow, hazy circles that made Arthur grimace. Three was stretching him, and he still had two more to go. Blast.

“Fine, Tyrian,” murmured Arthur. Tyrian righted him and handed Arthur his umbrella, but his hands lingered on Arthur’s waist and Arthur couldn’t find it in him to tell Tyrian to let go. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be steady on his feet, and it would be some time before he was back at his peak.

A trust exercise, to be certain.

“What _are_ you doing, anyway?” asked Tyrian. “You touch a wall, the world feels _icky_ , and then you’re off again.” Tyrian tilted his head. His long coat shifted as he slid his tail beneath it, wrapping it back around his waist.

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. He was _wet_ now, his pants splashed with the puddle he’d slipped in and his shoulders and face damp with the rain.

“You recall that I wanted to start a Grimm rampage?” asked Arthur. Tyrian nodded. “Well, your words on my Semblance reminded me of a trick I used to do on missions.”

“You were a huntsman?” asked Tyrian. That would be what Tyrian focused on.

“For a time,” replied Arthur. “I was a student at Atlas Academy, in my youth, and I was a huntsman for a brief time, after, before I turned my focus to the laboratories.” He shifted his umbrella from one hand to the other. “My Semblance has… a particular trick I can do, if needed.”

Tyrian raised his eyebrows, uncharacteristically silent. He must truly have been interested in what Arthur was saying, to close his mouth. Arthur made note of that.

“I am capable of detaching parts of my aura to enact a different part of my Semblance on an area,” said Arthur. He held out his hand and the green of his aura flared to life against his skin. Then, the swirling spot on the wall appeared as well.

“Ooh,” said Tyrian, leaning forward. “That is _fascinating._ Why not do that in, say, the Academy?”

Arthur sighed and pulled his hand back to rub the bridge of his nose. His vision swam. “It doesn’t work the same, I’m afraid, though that would be quite useful. Instead of creating dissent in others, it simply absorbs the dissent of those who pass it by.” He grimaced, tasting the grime of the wall. Oh, that was going to be a horrific taste to become used to in the next two weeks. “When enough is absorbed, it becomes a beacon to the Grimm.” He looked at Arthur. “Do you understand?”

Tyrian’s eyes lit up and a slow, feral grin spread on his eyes. “Arthur, that’s _brilliant_.” His voice was breathy and Arthur couldn’t help the warm flush that spread through his chest. “These spots on the wall, then,” he gestured, “they’re high traffic?” Arthur nodded, a bit pleased at how quickly Tyrian was picking this up.

No one ever understood the different aspects of his semblance so well without in-depth explanation.

“Yes,” said Arthur. “Once they absorb enough and become beacons, the Grimm will become attracted to the city and break down the walls in the spots I’ve chosen. The panic will insight a riot, from there. However,” he flexed his free hand, drawing up his aura across his body and revealing the holes across it. Tyrian gasped, “I am weakened when I do this, so I needed to wait until I was prepared to enact this part of my plan. If I’m right, the spots should cause a rampage on election night.” He’d run the numbers enough times that he saw them in his sleep. Had lost sleep, in fact.

He’d make up much of that sleep in the next two weeks. Hopefully, Tyrian wouldn’t destroy the city in the meantime. He needed Tyrian, much as it was strange to admit.

“What of your aura?” asked Tyrian, lifting one hand to squeeze Arthur’s shoulder.

“When the wall is broken, my aura will return to me,” said Arthur. “I’ve done that much before.” He left out that he’d never done it in more than one spot at a time. “However, I cannot break my aura before then, or the spots will vanish. They need me as an anchor.”

Tyrian nodded. “I suppose that makes me your personal bodyguard for the time being.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Arthur rolled his eyes, then stopped when Tyrian took Arthur’s free hand with his own and drew it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. “I am honoured, doctor. I will do everything I can to protect you.” He stared into Arthur’s eyes as he spoke, head still bowed over Arthur’s hand, and the heaviness of his words had Arthur’s breath catching in his chest.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Thank you, Tyrian. Now, come,” he pulled his hand free, trying not to think about the feeling of loss that swept over him, “there are two more spots I must tackle before the night is out.” He took a few steps, swayed, and almost fell over.

Tyrian rushed forward and swept an arm around Arthur’s waist, splaying his other hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Why don’t I help you, my dear?” he asked.

Arthur let him. Together, they strode toward the other two spots in the wall. Soon, he thought, soon their plan would come together and Atlas would fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very long and took a lot of effort, so I would love to know if people read and enjoyed it! Whether you want to leave an essay or just a heart that says "extra kudos" on it, or anything in between, from few words to many, I will cherish them all.
> 
> Thank you so much for continuing to support this fic and my nonsense. I appreciate all of you. <3


	22. A Night Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Last Time on The Weight of Living..._
> 
> Ruby attempts to get her team to open up with a group therapy game, wherein Blake, Oscar, and Penny come out as trans to the whole team and Weiss expresses doubts in her own gender identity.
> 
> However, Ren leaves the group, upset for unknown reasons. When Yang gives chase, she discovers that Ren is scared about their mission, and that they've been hiding something too: Ren isn't cis, they're non-binary. After a heartfelt conversation with Nora, ending in a kiss, Ren comes out to RRAYNBOW.
> 
> Meanwhile, Qrow joins the Ace Ops for game night and struggles with his semblance before ultimately telling the team. They aren't worried and know they can make up the difference. They offer a spot to Qrow and Qrow, emotional, takes it.
> 
> RRAYNBOW talks to Team FNKI at dinner and makes plans for the next night, including WBY going clubbing with FNKI, and learn the Team STRQ is more famous than any of them realized.
> 
> James does paperwork with Winter and makes plans to take Qrow out the next night.
> 
> Down in Mantle, Watts uses his semblance in a strange way.
> 
> The election is looming.
> 
> _And now, on today's episode of The Weight of Living..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I put a summary of the previous chapter in this chapter's summary? Yes. Why? Because it's been a hot minute, it was a 20k chapter, and I thought it'd be fun.
> 
> This is like 14k but let's be real that's normal at this point.
> 
> You know what's great about having been through a few mental breakdowns? You can write them really, really well. The lack of foresight and insight, the ability to twist moments together, and the ways you can showcase irrational actions that only make sense later, when the character regains their insight and can explain themself.
> 
> Yeah. Those are great.
> 
> God, I am so excited for this chapter. This is one I've had planned for a while. It's actually one of three that started the idea of this fic. I hope it lands well.
> 
> Anyway, remember what happened in the episode with the same title? We're not at the election yet, _but._
> 
> Enjoy!

_She was running. Running alongside him as the world fell apart. Running as the ground crumbled into nothingness beneath their feet. Running as the Grimm loomed close behind, nipping at their heels._

_Her breath was hard and fast in her ears. She clung to his hand, the only thing real amidst the chaos._

_And then his hand was no longer in hers. They broke apart, a chasm ripping opening at their feet. And she landed on the ground but he fell. He fell and fell and fell and the Grimm reached up from the darkness to greet him._

_“Mercury!”_

Emerald jolted awake, shooting upright. She gasped, scrambling at the sheets that threatened to suffocate her, gasping and mumbling and scrambling.

“Mercury,” she choked out. “Mercury!”

“Right here.” A hand on her shoulder. She turned. Mercury was crouched next to her low bed. Where were they? She couldn’t remember. But he was here. He was _alive._ She lunged, arms around his shoulders and clinging to him as hard as she could, tears slipping down her cheeks. He held her tight.

“You were gone,” she whispered. “You were gone and I couldn’t follow you.” She clung tighter, shaking. “I couldn’t follow you.”

Mercury’s hands tightened against her. His words brushed air against the crown of her head. “I won’t leave you,” he replied, voice low. “I swear, Em. I’m not leaving you.”

It came back to her in pieces. Vacuo. They were in Vacuo. They’d found a hostel that had a room free and the three of them were camping out for the night, until they could find supplies and head for the desert. Which meant…

“You two all right?” Hazel’s voice, low and curious and tired. Emerald flushed, embarrassment coating her tongue as she struggled to find words to reply.

“Fine,” said Mercury, hands gripping tighter. “You need something?”

Hazel exhaled. “No. Just woke up from the noise, is all.”

Emerald peeled herself back from Mercury, wiped at her eyes, and looked at Hazel. In the low light of the desert night, she could only sort of make out his face. He smiled at her. Small, reassuring. She recognized that smile.

But she didn’t know from where.

“Just a nightmare,” murmured Emerald. She had plenty of them, these days. Monsters from the dark, unkillable women, so much death and gore and destruction. Loss.

She’d given up Cinder, willingly, and she thought she never would. Now, all she had left was Mercury. And losing Mercury…

The thought tore a shudder free from her body.

“You need anything?” asked Mercury. He brushed her hair from her face and smiled down at her. His eyes almost seemed to glow in the moonlight that streamed through the thin, ratty curtains.

“Stay with me?” mumbled Emerald, dropping her gaze so she didn’t have to look at him. She slid one hand around and rested it on his chest, atop his heart. It pounded, sure and steady, beneath her clammy palm.

“Sure,” said Mercury, after a moment. “But if you kick in your sleep, I’m gonna complain.”

Emerald snorted. “As if I could hurt your legs.”

“You never know,” said Mercury, shrugging. “Stranger things and all that.” He shifted, guiding Emerald down back into her low bed, and crawled in next to her, tugging the thin sheet over them both. Emerald hesitated, unsure, and then Mercury rolled onto his side, tossed an arm across her body, and tucked his chin near her head. “Sleep,” he mumbled. “Won’t let anything hurt you.”

She settled, letting out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

* * *

Penny sat, cross-legged, on the couch in her dad’s office in Mantle. Multiple holographic screens floated above his Scroll, on his desk, but Penny wasn’t paying attention to those. Instead, she paid attention to the data streams that rolled across her vision, alerting her to every camera, every drone, and every piece of security equipment in Atlas.

“Are you certain?” asked Dad, not for the first time. “I’m not finding any anomalies.”

Penny nodded, jaw set in the same way she’d seen General Ironwood do it a hundred times. “Positive,” she replied. “There was a rogue drone near the crater, this morning.” At oh-four-hundred-fifteen, to be exact. The drone hadn’t responded to Penny’s calls for almost a minute, then it had abruptly turned and locked onto her before shutting down completely. By the time she’d landed, the drone had rebooted and was performing within normal parameters.

A roving group of Grimm near the north side of the wall had drawn her attention, and when she’d returned, the drone had been gone. There was nothing in the system to indicate which drone it had been.

Dad leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The data streams shuffled off to one eye so Penny could watch both parts of her life. He was right. There were no anomalies in the drones, as far as she could tell. The reboot wasn’t logged in the system, either.

That meant there was false data in the system, but none of Penny’s search parameters were catching anything.

“Whoever is responsible is very good,” said Penny.

Dad sighed. “You’re right, they are. You know, in all my days in Atlas, I’ve only ever met _one_ person capable of this sort of sabotage.”

Penny cocked her head to one side. “Could it be them?” she asked.

“Impossible,” said Dad, shaking his head. “He’s dead. Has been for over a decade.” Dad rubbed his chin. “Although, just because _he’s_ dead doesn’t mean his data is. A smart enough upstart might have been able to find Arthur’s old code and revamp it.” He leaned forward and started typing again.

Penny checked the time, though she didn’t need to. There were still hours before the rally, but she’d wanted to see Ruby before then. Today was Ruby’s last day off before she returned to training and work. That meant they would have less time to see each other. Penny had hoped to spend more time with Ruby, on her off days, but she’d been busy with her team and her other friends. Penny could respect that. It was important to maintain a strong relationship with all friends and teammates.

Maybe that was why Ruby had rejected her confession.

Penny knew she was supposed to be focusing on the anomaly, but she let her streams run through her search parameters while she focused on her thoughts, instead.

She had _thought_ she’d made it clear that her feelings were romantic in nature. Had thought that Ruby had heard what she said. But, Ruby had not reacted. Surely, a love confession was supposed to garner a reaction.

What was it Ruby had said, precisely? She had told Penny that not all love was romantic. That love could be familial as well as romantic. And Penny had changed the subject. Or, had she simply changed it back?

Ruby had a way of making her feel like nothing could be sorted into nice, easy categories. Like none of her observation abilities or her computing power could help her to understand how the world changed in Ruby’s presence.

Penny _knew_ it was love. Romantic love, at that. Yet, she hadn’t made that clear to Ruby. How did she make that clear to Ruby? Should she? Surely, honesty was the best option. It was always the best option. Yet, Ruby had so many things to deal with. She was upset. She was hiding her problems. Penny did not want to add to those issues.

Perhaps she should wait until Ruby’s problems had been talked about and she could handle more changes in her life. Penny wanted to be a force for good in Ruby’s life, not another stressor.

She could wait. She would happily wait. It was not as though either of them were leaving Atlas, and they had many allies in this war. Everything would be fine.

Until then, she could bask in Ruby’s presence and continue to enjoy her friendship. Penny liked their friendship. She never wanted to lose that, regardless of the outcome of her second confession.

The data streams buzzed, alerting Penny as a line turned red. She focused in on the line, shuffling her thoughts off to the side until later. It was not the anomaly from earlier, nor the drone, but something else entirely.

“Dad?” asked Penny. She looked to him, erasing the data from her vision and tossing the highlighted line up onto one of his screens. “Look.”

Dad squinted at the screen that Penny had commandeered and hummed, rubbing his chin. “My, that’s interesting. It looks to me as though there’s a hiccup in the code.” He frowned. “I didn’t write this code, so I’m not very familiar with it.”

“What is it for?” asked Penny. She tipped her head to one side and rested her hands on her crossed ankles, like she’d seen others do. She called up the line, once more, and pulled out to view its source code, trying to chase down some frame of reference. But starting in a generalized stream of all Atlas data made it much more difficult.

“It would appear to be our old targeting systems,” said Dad. “Coordinates and the like. Nothing terribly important, as most of the ships and guns all run on different systems now. Only a few things, like land to air missiles, still use the coordinate systems. Automated supply drops, things like that. Oh, and the drop ships, but only the auto-pilot.”

Penny frowned. Ah, there was the code. It looked like a very small hiccup, but she knew that even the smallest problems in code could cause very big problems. The cameras in Mantle had faced a similar issue, weeks ago. A small hiccup that caused rolling security blackouts across the city. Penny had patrolled for hours while Dad fixed the issue, but nothing had happened. No crime, no violence, no Grimm, nothing.

Both she and Dad had ruled it to be a simple update malfunction. They happened, sometimes. But a second hiccup in so many months was worrisome. Granted, there _were_ plenty of new coders and engineers in Atlas, as of late. Perhaps one of them was making the same mistake and Dad simply hadn’t told everyone about the camera issue, yet. It was easy to miss one person.

“Oh,” said Penny. “What should we do?”

Dad turned to face her. “Well, I’m going to stay here and work on the coding as best I can. It’ll take some research, but I think I can sort it out.” He pushed up his glasses. “You’ve got that rally tonight, yes?” Penny nodded. “All right. You should still go. It’s important to foster connections between Mantle and Atlas, especially now. However, I’d like it if you kept some of your attention on Mantle’s systems, and make note of any discrepancies you find.”

“Should I pursue them?” asked Penny.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” said Dad, shaking his head. “I believe that these are simple coding errors. So many of our systems are running on the new Atlas engine that those on the old Mantle system are getting left behind. Any crossover code would cause a great deal of problems. Once we find the crossover, I can make the necessary changes.” Dad looked at her. “I don’t want you to run afoul of rogue coding errors. While I am certain that they can’t hurt you, I worry.”

Penny nodded. “As long as the people of Mantle are safe, I will not pursue.”

He smiled. “All right. I can agree to that.” He turned back to his code. “Right, I should get back to work.”

“Dad?” asked Penny. If she didn’t interrupt him now, she wouldn’t be able to. He got so engrossed in his work, sometimes.

“Yes, Penny?”

Penny hesitated. How should she phrase this? She had so many questions.

“Am I…” Another hesitation. “Can I fall in love?” She stared at Dad, and he didn’t move for close to twenty seconds. Seventeen and a half, to be precise. Then, he turned his chair and pulled off his glasses, revealing tear-filled eyes.

“Of course, Penny,” he said, his voice gentle and stunned in that way Weiss’ sometimes was. “You are capable of all feelings. You’re a person.”

Penny nodded. “Are you sure?” She had thought she was, but her doubts were too strong to shuffle aside. Not like the code. “I… I know we think I’m a person…” She stared down at her hands. She pulled her gloves off and flexed her hands. The synthetic skin was much more accurate, now. Her hair was real. She produced synthetic saliva and tears when needed, even if their canisters were one and the same and needed to be refilled after.

But so much of her wasn’t like other girls. Most of her wasn’t like other girls.

The only transgender android in existence. She felt like a punchline to some unheard joke, at times. What do you get when a robot has an existential crisis? Or something similar.

Penny shook her head. These doubts hadn’t plagued her before Ruby returned to Atlas. It was not Ruby’s fault. Ruby made Penny feel human. Ruby made Penny feel _normal_.

Ruby reminded Penny that she was anything but.

“You _are_ a person,” said Dad, his chair shuffling him over. “You are kind, and giving, and wonderful. You are so much more than I thought was possible. Nothing about who you are now, Penny, is anything to do with me beyond my aura and the basic aspects of myself that you inherited in much the same way a child inherits from their own parents.” He took her hands. His were warm, his pulse thrumming beneath his skin at seventy-two beats-per-minute.

“You’re sure?” asked Penny.

Dad smiled. “Yes, Penny. I am positive. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if someday you awoke your semblance.”

Penny startled. What? A semblance? “You think so?” she whispered. She’d never dared to think that she could have a semblance. There was no point in thinking about the impossible, especially when all it brought was pain. “Truly?”

“Truly,” he said, nodding. “And I am so terribly excited to see what your semblance turns out to be.”

Penny’s face broke out into a wide grin, pulling at the edges of her face as it stretched across. “Wow,” she breathed. “A semblance.” What would it be? A semblance was the physical embodiment of an aspect of your soul, of your character. Her aura meant she had a soul, but Penny often feared it had more to do with her dad’s soul than her own. But a semblance, especially if it wasn’t the same as Dad’s, would really prove who she was.

It would prove she couldn’t ever be recreated, mass produced, just like any other person couldn’t be.

“Thank you,” said Penny. She pulled her hands back and pulled her gloves back on. “I should get going.” She hopped off the table and gave her dad a hug. He hugged her back. “I love you. See you soon.”

“I love you too, Penny. Have a good night,” said Dad. She waved as she pulled back from him and skipped toward the door.

A _semblance._

Now wouldn’t that just be _spectacular_?

* * *

Weiss fumbled for the zipper in the back of her dress, craning her neck to look over her shoulder and into the bathroom mirror. She scowled, still unable to reach it. She was _not_ asking for help. Not when everyone else was getting ready and she wanted to make a splash.

This wouldn’t be as big a surprise as her new huntress outfit – which she was _almost_ done sewing, after today’s four hours of work alongside Vine – but she wanted her dress to make a bang, regardless.

That did, however, leave the matter of her zipper.

…Her semblance. Weiss could have slapped herself, if it wouldn’t mess up her make-up. She flicked her wrist and summoned a small version of the knight’s arm, turning around to let him zip up her dress. On instinct, Weiss went to lift her hair, only to stop when she remembered it was no longer there. It had been a while since she’d cut it, yet muscle memory was long. And the fact that she could see it in her peripheries when she moved wasn’t helping.

“Thank you,” she murmured, vanishing the knight’s arm after he finished. She turned and assessed herself in the mirror. Short, tight, white dress. Leather alternating with a softer, more breathable material. No sleeves, just straps as thick as a pair of fingers. No leggings, because clubs were hot, so what was the point? Tall heels, also white. Make-up done in silver and white and blue with a hint of black to sharpen it out. Hair slicked back. Tiny snowflake decals at the outside corners of her eyes.

If they wanted to call her ice queen, then she was taking the aesthetic to another level and making it _work._

“Perfect,” said Weiss, nodding to herself. Her hands lifted, self-consciously, to her hair. Was this really the hair style she wanted? She and Blake basically had the same bob at the moment. Did she like that? She didn’t know.

Shaking her head, Weiss stepped out of the bathroom and strode down the hall to the dorm room. The door was closed and Weiss tapped it open.

_Oh._

Yang stood in front of a floor-length mirror. Asymmetrical orange dress with one partial sleeve. Sharp angles that accented muscular arms and legs, her prosthetic arm fully exposed and polished to gleaming.

Yang turned and grinned at her. “Hot _damn_ , Weiss. You look like you’re going cruising for more than just a dance.” She waggled her eyebrows. Her hair was partially up, pulled away from her face to reveal red eyeliner and a reddish-purple tint to her lips. Gloss, as opposed to lipstick. Was it flavoured? What did it taste like?

“Yang, don’t be crude,” said Blake, stepping into view, and Weiss completely lost the ability to speak.

Black pants – leather? Probably – leading into tall black boots detailed in gold and purple. A loose, white dress shirt with loose, flowing sleeves that waved as she moved. She’d left the top button undone and only done the next two, taking the tails of the shirt and tying them into a small bow just above her bellybutton. Her scar was exposed.

Weiss could have reached out and touched it. Known the texture of the mark with only a few steps and a motion.

“Yeah, well,” Weiss shrugged, trying to compose herself, “ _some_ of us are cutting loose for the first time.”

Yang gave her a look that consisted of wide eyes, raised eyebrows, and a crooked smile that was mostly teeth on one side. “If this is you cutting loose we should take nights off more often.” She whistled. “ _Damn._ ”

Weiss blushed. Don’t read into it, she told herself, even though she wanted nothing more. Don’t read into it.

“Well, you both look lovely as well,” said Weiss. “Orange suits you much better than that white monstrosity you wore to the dance.” She sniffed. Yang had _apparently_ been trying to make herself look angelic. Blake was the angel of the team. Yang was the demon.

And Weiss? Weiss the poor soul stuck between them, wondering which to follow.

“Thanks,” said Blake, tucking her hair back. “I wasn’t sure about the pants, but Yang said they looked nice on me.”

“They do,” said Yang.

Blake smiled, cheeks rosy. “I’ve never been clubbing before. Is it fun?”

Yang grinned. “Oh, it’s _awesome._ Bumping music, great lights. If the DJ is good, there’s all sorts of neat shit they can do.” She stretched her arms above her head, flexing shoulder muscles that Weiss hadn’t known she possessed. “Plus, there’s always people to dance with, and some kickass drinks, y’know, if you want them.”

Weiss frowned and folded her arms. “I don’t think drinking is a good idea. We start work again, tomorrow. We don’t want to be hungover.” And she _never_ wanted to drink. The smell of wine had been an unwelcome friend in her childhood home, and the very scent of most alcohols made her stomach churn, these days.

Qrow’s sobriety had been a blessing for many reasons.

“Yeah, fair,” said Yang, shrugging. “Virgin drinks it is.”

“Don’t you worry about drinking?” asked Blake, ears swivelling back. “I mean, it runs in your family.”

Yang looked at Blake, then at Weiss, eyes narrowing before something flickered in them. Weiss looked away. She didn’t need Yang reading her thoughts, tonight. It was bad enough Ruby was getting good at reading her.

“Guess I never worried about it,” said Yang. “Just never seemed like something that could affect me the way it does him.” Weiss looked back to see Yang frowning. “All right, all right. I’ll avoid drinks. Don’t need another bad coping mechanism.”

It was clearly a joke, but it struck Weiss under her ribs, stabbing in close. She shook her head, and hugged herself, looking away again.

“Yeah, I think we all have enough of those,” she mumbled.

“Right,” said Blake. “With that morbid note, why don’t we go wait for Team FNKI down in the common area?” She scooted passed Weiss. She smelled of lavender and something wild, not quite pine, not quite holly, not quite dirt, but earthy all the same.

“Yeah, good call,” said Yang. She threw an arm around Weiss’ shoulders as they strode toward the common area and Weiss, despite herself, relaxed into it.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be as awkward as she thought. Maybe everything would be just fine.

* * *

Qrow leaned back in the plush seats of the car, stretching his arms as best he could. It was roomy, but not overly fancy. He and James sat side-by-side in the single row of back seats, divided from the front by a dark partition that rose and fell with the push of a button.

Yet, their attire didn’t quite match the snazzy car in which they travelled. Slacks, button-downs, and a sweater, in James’ case. A jacket, in Qrow’s.

“Where are we going?” asked Qrow, not for the first time. He was on James’ left, something that made him frown, but it was probably habit for James to sit on the passenger side of a car. Not everyone knew him like Qrow did.

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” said James. He fidgeted with his gloves. Just one, tonight, despite the chill. His left hand was pale and scarred and calloused. It beckoned to Qrow, a forbidden fruit within a hidden trap. How quickly would it trigger, if he were to snatch the treat inside? What sort of rejection awaited him, once his fingers were caught in the cage?

Qrow shook his head, forcing the thoughts to scatter. “So,” he said, drawing himself out of his head, “I gotta say, I’m surprised you took the night off. Things have been pretty crazy in Atlas, lately.” And always, he didn’t say, because he didn’t feel like starting that fight, once again.

James hummed. “Someone,” he said, casting a dry look in Qrow’s direction, “has been reminding me that taking a night off benefits more than it harms. Atlas won’t collapse if I’m not there in the hotseat for a night, Qrow.” He smiled at Qrow and Qrow smiled back. “Besides, I needed a night. Taking some time to myself, enjoying my life, helps me work harder.” He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t _you_ always telling me not to burn myself out?”

Qrow let out a slow breath, entire body sagging into the plush leather seats. The words rang warm and clear in his head.

“Yeah, I am. Never known you to take me seriously, though.” Hell, there were days Qrow doubted James _could_ listen to others. His semblance did some seriously strange shit to his head, sometimes. Shit that had Qrow ready to crack his aura and talk some sense into him. Usually, it worked. And when it didn’t, you called Oz.

Oz always knew how to get into people’s heads.

“You might have noticed, but I _am_ trying to listen to others, these days,” said James. He reached out and rested his hand atop Qrow’s knee. The warmth bled through his black slacks and into his skin. Qrow fought a shiver. “It’s been working out, I think.”

Qrow squeezed his hands into fists in his lap, trying not to reach out and take James’ hand in his own.

“Yeah, it has,” he agreed, keeping his voice level. “You’ve done good work with the kids. They’re really starting to trust you and your people.”

James nodded. “Good. I’m glad. However, I was more thinking of you.”

Qrow blinked. “What?” He looked up at James’ face and found him smiling, small and soft, his eyes squinting and brows drawn low and gentle. “What about me?”

James squeezed his knee. “I’ve certainly put you through a lot since you got here, Qrow. I can’t help but worry that I’ve broken some of the trust we had, or given you cause to doubt myself or my kingdom.”

Qrow stared at James, then the hand on his knee, then back at James.

“No,” he said. “Never. Jim, I might have a hard time with all the shit going on, but I can handle it.” He didn’t need people worrying about him. He was recovering. He had his anxiety under control. He was studying all the shit to be a Lieutenant-General. “And you’ve always done what you thought was the right thing, James. I can’t fault you for that.”

James sighed. “You could, and I wouldn’t blame you.”

Qrow reached up and put a hand on James’ shoulder. “So long as you keep listening, I’ll always assume the best of you, James. I promise.”

James reached up with his right hand and laid it atop Qrow’s. “Thank you.”

Qrow wished he could pull the glove from James’ hand. That James had the confidence to live without hiding what he thought were weaknesses and imperfections. That Qrow could wipe away the world that gave him those fears.

It was pointless to wish. Still, he did.

“Oh, we’re here,” said James, as the car pulled to a stop. He removed his hand from Qrow’s and Qrow tried not to frown at the loss.

James climbed out of the car and Qrow followed, staring up at the big, domed building that glittered like the night sky. Qrow furrowed his brow. What was this place? He might have flown over it, once or twice, but he’d never been this close.

“Where are we?” asked Qrow, taking his place at James’ side.

James gestured to the building, smiling. “Welcome to my favourite place in Atlas, the planetarium.” He turned his gaze to Qrow, and his smile was so soft, so gentle, that Qrow lost his breath. “There’s a new room that’s opening soon. I _may_ ,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “have pulled some strings so we could see it together, alone, before its official opening, tomorrow night.”

“New room?” echoed Qrow, hugging his arms. It was cooler than he thought it’d be, and he shuffled closer to James, hoping to leech warmth.

James’ smile broadened and he slipped an arm around Qrow’s shoulders. The warm, heavy weight of his wool sweater warmed Qrow’s extremities. He sighed.

“The clearest view of the night sky we’ve ever had, and full holograms showing the movement of the stars and our closest planetary neighbours.” James’ cheeks blushed pink, and Qrow wasn’t sure if it was his words or the cold causing it. “You mentioned you liked hearing the stories of the stars. I thought this would be a… more dedicated way to tell them.”

Qrow cracked a smile at that, pieces folding together. _Not a date_ , he told himself, but a not-date, just like their dinner. Good for image, but also good for spending time together. James was a smart man.

“Sounds like a good time,” said Qrow. He bumped hips with James and started up the steps of the building. “Shall we?”

James chuckled and followed after him.

* * *

The rally was well underway when Penny arrived, flying in from the south. Robyn was holding it near the outer wall of Mantle and posters, both holographic and paper, had been stuck haphazardly upon the wall behind the low stage of crates that Penny presumed Robyn and the Happy Huntresses had created.

Penny had only taken a few steps when May ran over to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward Robyn.

“C’mon, robot girl, boss lady wants to see you,” she said.

Penny frowned and pulled her arm free. “My _name_ is Penny.” She pressed her lips together. “And I do not like to be touched without being asked, first.”

May raised an eyebrow, then lifted both hands to shoulder level, palms to Penny. “All right, still gotta come with, though.” She grinned. “Try and keep up.”

She ran through the crowd and Penny debated simply flying over it. But she did not want to stand out more than she already did – a fact she was, unfortunately, well aware of – and so she followed May on foot, nudging her way through people with apologies and murmurs of ‘excuse me’.

Robyn stood near the makeshift stage, talking with Joanna. Penny didn’t listen in on their conversation. She’d learned, the hard way, that it was impolite.

“Yo, boss lady,” called May, raising one hand. “Got her.”

Robyn turned and gave a little smile at Penny. It did not change her eyes. That meant it wasn’t genuine. That was okay. Penny would earn Robyn’s trust.

“Penny. Good to see you.” Robyn nodded.

“And you,” said Penny, bouncing on her heels. “You have a lot of supporters here.” And she did. The crowd had no less than four hundred unique heartbeats, and the number was climbing with every minute. She suspected, based on her fly over, that the crowd would range around a thousand people by the time the night was done. “What would you like me to do?”

“Well, we’re not expecting much in the way of conflict, tonight,” said Robyn, folding her arms loosely across her chest. “Setting up against the wall prevents us from being in the way, and we’re still a bit out from the election, so tensions haven’t capped out yet.” She tossed her head, flipping her bangs from her eyes. “Mostly, I just want you to keep an eye out. The ladies will be giving you a hand.”

Penny nodded. “Okie dokie. I can do that.” She gave a salute to Robyn. “I won’t let you down.”

Robyn’s eyes wrinkled – a genuine smile, then. “I know you won’t, Penny. You’ve always helped Mantle. I’m sorry I thought otherwise.” Robyn reached up and tugged at her ponytail. “If Atlas is keeping its promises, then I should meet them halfway, at least in diplomacy.”

“I assure you that we all appreciate it,” said Penny. Mr. Ironwood had expressed a lot of joy when Penny had told him about this. Winter had seemed… worried. Penny couldn’t place why. Clover had been excited. “I will do my best tonight. If you don’t mind, I would like to get to work.”

Robyn nodded. “All right, off you go.”

Penny struck off into the crowd to start her patrols. She let her sensors spread out to envelope the crowd. Signs of stress were easy to find, as were signs of aggression and fear. So long as she kept herself open to finding all three, everyone would be fine.

So, Penny’s night began. She listened to supporters of Robyn give speeches and tell stories of way Robyn and the Happy Huntresses had helped them. There were others who started cheers or shared trinkets. Fiona Thyme gave an impassioned speech about Robyn’s allyship with the faunus population of Mantle. Penny had heard of many of the larger aspects of Robyn’s activism, especially because Clover and Marrow both kept up with her work, but she hadn’t known any of the smaller or more personal stories.

For several hours, Penny listened to the stories, helped hand out food, water, and clothing, and listened to the Happy Huntresses make jokes between Robyn’s time on stage. It was calm. It was nice. But Penny was lonely.

She found herself leaning against the outer wall of Mantle after a time, arms folded across her chest as she stared at the crowd. Over eight hundred heartbeats, now. Some signs of distress, but mostly anxiety. They were being handled by Fiona.

Panic attacks. Penny had seen Ruby have some. She suspected Ruby’s tendency to ignore her emotions until they overwhelmed her and caused her to cry and breakdown counted, to some degree.

“Hey,” said May, striding up to her. “You’ve done good work tonight, thanks.”

Penny nodded. “I’ve done very little, but thank you.”

May leaned against the wall, next to her, and folded her arms behind her head. “That’s not the point. You don’t _have_ to help people in big ways to make an impact. You’re making Atlas seem approachable, human. That’s important.”

Penny stared down at her hands, which she held, palm up, at chest level. Human. She was real. But she wasn’t human. Did it matter? Of course it mattered. She didn’t age. She didn’t get worn down the way others did. Crows’ feet, laugh lines, wrinkles – they were all beautiful, and she would never have them.

She’d heard her dad theorize, to Miss Calavera, that Penny could live forever, if she was careful.

She did not _want_ to live forever.

“So, yeah, thanks,” said May, shrugging. Penny lifted her head and nodded to May again.

“You’re welcome,” said Penny. “It’s important to me that our cities work together.” She stared up at Atlas, not quite above this area, but further out. “We are one people. We should be united.”

May snorted. “Yeah, if only it was that simple.”

Penny nodded. “I know. There is history that I do not understand. Prejudices I cannot fathom. The hatred many humans feel for faunus makes no sense to me, nor do other forms of prejudice.”

“A lot of it is fear of difference and fear of change,” said May. “Things were done one way for so long that when change comes, a lot of people resist it.”

Penny sighed. “Fear controls too much of our world.”

“Oh yeah. Kind of stupid, you know, that we’re so full of fear and hatred when it’s a huge part of what keeps bringing the Grimm to wipe us out.”

Penny tilted her head to one side and looked at May, who stared up at the stars. Only one side of the sky was visible, due to Atlas, but the sky was still beautiful.

“I think that’s why this election is so important, because unity could replace fear,” said Penny. She swept the crowd with her sensors again. More signs of distress. Where were they coming from? It seemed more typical for a crowd of this size, but the crowd had been so calm all night…

Unnaturally calm.

“Yeah, you’re right,” said May.

The wall vibrated. Penny swung her sensors around and stepped off the wall, spinning to face it.

“What?” asked May, still leaning.

Noise beyond the wall. Loud, screeching.

_Grimm._

Penny jerked forward and yanked May from the wall. She pulled May behind her and backed up. The vibrations grew. The distress grew. The wall cracked.

“Get down!” shouted Penny, throwing her voice into the speakers spread around the crowd.

The wall exploded. Bricks and clay and dust everywhere.

Penny switched to her sensors, scanning through the smoke and fog. People coughed. May groaned behind Penny.

“Please back up,” said Penny. “I need my swords.” May shuffled away and Penny drew her swords, spinning them around her.

From the smoke, from the hole in the wall, came the inky black and glowing red of Grimm. Hordes of them.

High above, and inside Penny’s head, the Grimm sirens began to wail.

* * *

After meeting with FNKI, whereupon Neon made several _highly_ inappropriate comments about Weiss’ outfit that had Weiss flushing hot and sputtering awkwardly, the group of seven took a shuttle down to Mantle and made their way to a warehouse in the centre of the industrial area. Flashing strobe lights lit up the darkened windows, smoke from a fog machine oozed out the open door, and the harsh beats of the dance music pulsated down the street, pounding into Weiss’ veins.

“This is gonna be _awesome_ ,” said Neon as the group approached the bodyguard who was letting people in. They all pulled out their Scrolls to show their IDs and Weiss cringed under the glare of the guard.

“Schnee,” he said, spitting the word like most would say ‘faunus’. She should have expected that. Faunus friendly areas in Atlas were notoriously anti-capitalist. Which was the long way of saying anti-Schnee, around here.

“She’s with us,” said Neon. “C’mon Reuben, lighten up. Weiss is the coolest. Plus you know you owe me.” She waggled her eyebrows. She looked about as warm as Weiss did, in black leather booty shorts and a low cut, long sleeved shirt that was missing one of the sleeves. Neon buttons and neon ribbons tied and pinned to her. High boots and no rollerblades, which was _strange._ She was still taller than Weiss, but not by nearly as much.

The guard, Reuben – Weiss quite liked the name, and the sandwich – snorted and waved them through.

Inside, the club was a cacophony of noise, light, and smell. Music, shouting, pounding feet and bodies that twisted the smell of sweat and perfume and over-applied cologne. Semi-circular booths surrounding tall tables, half of them cloaked in silky, purple tablecloths.

“You want to get a drink?” asked Neon.

The girls shook their heads.

Flynt grinned and held out a hand to Yang. “Care to dance?”

“Oh you are _on_ , fedora boy,” said Yang, taking his hand. She spun around him and yanked him to the dancefloor, laughing as Flynt yelped and stumbled after her.

Ivori and Kobalt took each other’s hands and darted off to the dancefloor, and Neon grabbed Blake and Weiss’ hands and pulled them along.

Blake laughed as she spun around Neon and Flynt and Yang. Weiss danced mostly with Flynt, twisting around him and swinging back toward Neon. The music pounded around her, burrowing into her veins.

Then the music changed and Weiss froze.

Because the voice coming out of the speakers was _her._

“Is that you?” shouted Blake.

Weiss nodded, eyes wide and jaw dropped open. “Yeah!” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her own music. This was “I Burn”, a song she’d recorded in a studio in Vale for Yang’s eighteenth birthday. The club remix was _fantastic_ and Weiss fought the urge to find a stage and a mic and sing along.

“You’re so good.” Neon’s voice was loud in her ear. Weiss turned and Neon grinned at her. “You should totally sing at the academy sometime!”

Weiss grinned and let Neon take her hands and they twirled and shimmied together.

Fast-paced music turned to faster-paced dancing. She jumped, she swayed, she laughed, she cheered. The group sang along to music alongside the rest of the club.

Maybe half an hour, maybe an hour passed, and Weiss found herself collapsing into one of the booths, bottles of water in both hands. She set one down and cracked open the other, downing half of it in one go.

“You were like, totally on fire out there,” said Neon, collapsing at the end of the booth, effectively pinning Weiss in on this side. “You’re _such_ a good dancer.”

Weiss blushed and smoothed her hand down her dress. Despite the lack of clothing, she couldn’t stop sweating.

“Thank you,” said Weiss. “So’re you.” Neon’s dancing was far more… _sexual_ than Weiss was used to. Her hips and her tail working in tandem to seduce whoever she was next to. She had passed herself around strangers throughout the last hour, wiggling against whoever came near. Most people ended up retreating, blushing and stammering. Weiss couldn’t blame them.

“Your teammates are really into each other,” said Neon, looking back at the dancefloor. Weiss followed her gaze and frowned. Blake and Yang were wrapped up in each other, laughing and dancing to the bouncing beat of the song. Weiss was too far away to make out details, but Yang was ducking her head to lean it close to Blake’s, and Blake brushed back Yang’s hair with one hand.

Weiss’ frown deepened into a scowl and she looked down at her water, stomach tying itself into knots. It was stupid, her jealousy, but knowing that didn’t help.

“Yeah, guess they are,” muttered Weiss. The water in the bottle cracked, freezing solid. Weiss jerked back, releasing the bottle. Oops.

Neon eyed the frozen water. “You can share mine,” she said, a teasing tone to her voice. Then, when Weiss didn’t respond, she pouted and wiggled closer. “Aw, c’mon Weiss, give a girl a little attention, would you?” She wiggled her shoulders and pouted. “I went to all this trouble to get you alone and you can’t even give me a few seconds?”

Weiss stared. Alone? What? “Excuse me?” Her voice squeaked.

Neon’s pout transformed into a sly grin. “Oh come on, you haven’t noticed me trying to get your attention? Damn, I really am off my game.”

Weiss kept staring. “You have a boyfriend.” Right? Flynt was her boyfriend, wasn’t he? He even said that he loved Neon.

But then, the team all loved each other, right?

“Oh, Flynt?” Neon giggled. “Nah, we’re not dating. He’s…” Neon hesitated, pressing her lips together and furrowing her brow. “I’m not… into dating. Or people, I guess, romantically. I mean, sex is cool, but I just don’t get crushes, y’know?” She shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. I still love people, just not in that way. And Flynt gets that.”

“Then what are you?” asked Weiss. She was pretty sure there was a word for what Neon was, but Weiss didn’t know it offhand. Too bad Coco wasn’t around. Coco knew every word for every sexuality and gender under the sun.

Neon shrugged. “Everything. We’re friends, partners, but we’re more than that. I’ll spend the rest of my life with him, if I can. Live with him, raise a family with him, maybe. And yeah, sometimes we fool around, but that’s not the _point_ of what we are.” Neon’s tail swished around her shoulder. It wasn’t like Sun’s, which was like another arm, but more like Marrow’s, sort of a mood ring. “We’re soulmates.” She shrugged again. “Nothing romantic about it.”

Weiss blinked a few times. She’d never heard a relationship explained like that before, or of a relationship that _could_ be explained like that. It didn’t quite make sense to her, but it sounded… nice. Deep. Comfortable.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” said Weiss. Above the music, she heard laughter, and looked to see Blake dipped close to the ground. Yang held her tight, both of them laughing loud enough to echo back over to Weiss.

Weiss clenched her hands in her lap. Half of her wanted, very much, to go get a drink. To drown out her thoughts and her sorrows with something sharp and bitter, just like her. The rest of her knew exactly how bad an idea that was.

“Jealousy is a terrible colour on you,” said Neon, taking the other bottle and sipping from it. Weiss stared at her, forcing herself not to react beyond a startle. “Are you okay?”

Weiss frowned and stared down at the table. Rings from drinks long since drunk and cleaned up stared back at her.

“I’m fine,” she said, even though she wasn’t. She didn’t know who she was. Or what she wanted. Or how she wanted to go about living and being a new person. Her feelings for Blake and Yang were so confusing, so foreign. They had each other. They didn’t need her. And part of her wanted to push at the divide between them. To stretch it back out until there was enough room to shove herself between them and see if either one would be interested.

The rest of her wanted to rip apart herself for daring to think that, for wanting to gain from her friends’ pain. She was terrible. Her thoughts were terrible. She didn’t deserve them.

They deserved to be happy. All she’d do was cause them pain.

She needed to get over this.

“Sure,” said Neon. “I mean, you don’t wanna talk about it, and I can totally respect that. Emotions are hard.” Neon twirled a strand of hair around one finger. It was down, tonight, and longer than Weiss had expected. Very cute. Neon was cute. Cute and flirty and low-risk and kept flirting with Weiss and—

Weiss shook herself. She wasn’t pushing her feelings on other people. That wasn’t fair to Neon. Or to her.

“You know,” said Neon, “I don’t wanna pressure you into anything, but if you need to take your mind off anything…” Neon reached out and dragged one finger down Weiss’ sweaty shoulder and arm. _Oh._

Well then.

Neon shrugged. “No pressure. But I know what it’s like, to be trapped in one role and want a way out. To feel like an outsider in your own skin.” Neon tipped her head, revealing toothy fangs and sticker tattoos she’d pressed along one side of her neck. “In my experience, having an outlet helps.”

Weiss swallowed. Was it really that bad if Neon was offering? Was this what Weiss wanted? Everyone called her frigid. Was she frigid? Did she need to loosen up? Or was she just so _lonely_ that sex with a girl she barely knew was sounding like a good plan?

“Hey, are you okay? You look… scared,” said Neon. She scooted forward, every bit of the cutesy party girl vanished. She put a hand on Weiss’ shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry if I went too far.”

The music pulsated through Weiss’ blood, pounding her heart and head in a fast, panicky rhythm that swept Weiss under. She stared at Neon’s lips. At her hands. At her eyes.

She was cute. Hot. Experienced. Available. No pressure. A way to figure things out. A way to understand more about herself.

“I—” And it wouldn’t be taking advantage, because Neon knew what she was asking Weiss for. And Weiss knew what Neon was asking. “I—”

Did she really want to lose her virginity to Neon Katt?

“What about Flynt?” asked Weiss.

Neon shrugged. “I talked to him, yesterday, when I started getting flirty with you. I was like, totally interested back at the tournament, but then everything went… bad.” They both winced. “He said it’s fine. Even offered to join us, if you wanted.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Weiss flushed hot.

A more serious man with a tendency toward silence and a sassier girl with a tendency toward using humour to cope. Not the same. Not nearly the same. But they were close, closer than close, and they were inviting Weiss in, if only for a night.

Weiss scooted closer. “I, uh.” She scooted closer. Almost in Neon’s lap, now. The music pounded around them. The heat of the club dripped sweat down her back. Neon’s breath ghosted Weiss’ lips and Weiss shuddered at the scent of her perfume and her own skin.

Oh. Oh this was nice. She could do this. She could—

The music stopped. The lights turned red. The alarms wailed all around. Weiss and Neon jerked back from each other.

Grimm sirens. The big ones. The wall had been breached.

“Holy shit,” said Neon.

Weiss swallowed. “Rain check,” she said. “Promise.” She jerked forward, pressed a kiss to Neon’s cheek, then grabbed the back of the seat with one hand, vaulted over Neon, and touched down on the dance floor. Yang and Blake ran toward her.

“Is that the wall alarm?” asked Yang. Weiss nodded. She’d heard it only twice before in her entire life.

“We need to go,” said Weiss. Blake’s ears flattered as the three ran for the door, leaving the panicking clubbers and the confused Team FNKI behind. Maybe they’d join. Maybe they wouldn’t.

It didn’t matter. They had work to do.

Outside, the streets were already in a frenzy. Citizens ran through the roads, carrying children, carrying pets, grabbing tight to one another. The streetlights bathed the dark night a bright, unnatural red, and the cold bit hard at every inch of Weiss’ exposed skin. She called upon her aura and dug out her Scroll, already punching in the coordinates for her rocket locker.

_Error,_ read the screen, _location not found._

Weiss stared.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” shouted Yang. A boy tripped and Weiss darted forward, helping him to his feet.

“Get inside,” said Weiss. “And get as far away from doors and windows as you can.” He nodded and ran off, stumbling over his feet. She looked back at Yang and Blake, who stared at their Scrolls. “It means the targeting system for the lockers is down.” Perfect. “Which means we have no weapons.”

“What do we do?” asked Blake. “There has to be hundreds of people in the club, and this area is all low-income housing.” Blake looked at them both. “They could all die.”

“We have to do something,” said Weiss.

Yang punched her fists together, fire flaring across her hair. “Improvise.”

Howls pierced the sky and cut through the cold, wet night. The red lights bore down on Weiss as the red eyes of the Grimm flashed into existence around the corner.

Weiss dropped to one knee and planted one hand, fingers splayed, on the ground. Her aura flared around her, flowing through her body and down to her fingertips. The image of the knight burned in her mind’s eye and the taste of metal clung to her tongue.

A second passed. The Sabyrs sprinted forward, snarling and roaring. Her glyph glowed on the ground, growing larger and spinner faster. The knight clawed his way out of it, swinging his massive sword down in one motion to cut through the Sabyrs. They vanished in smoke and ash and the taste of decay.

“Nice job,” said Yang, grinning at Weiss.

“More where that came from,” said Blake. Weiss stood, spinning around to face Blake, who had also turned. More Sabyrs. Weiss whistled. The Knight leapt over the two, running side by side with Yang as the two charged the Grimm.

“Can you do multiple summons?” asked Blake, looking over her shoulder. Weiss looked back and saw more Grimm. She swallowed.

“I don’t know,” she said. She’d never tried. Clapping her hands together, Weiss called upon her aura, focusing on the image of the Queen Lancer. Pilot, dead. Ship, crashed. Friends, scattered.

The glyph fell. Weiss’ eyes snapped open as the Knight vaporized beneath the teeth of a Sabyr.

“Weiss!” shouted Yang, holding open the jaws of another. “Call another!”

Her summoning glyphs flickered and died beneath her feet.

Panic flared in her chest, bright and cold. “I can’t!”

“What?” shouted Yang. “Then what am I—” Another Sabyr tackled her. Blake shouted and sprinted into the madness. Weiss cast out her aura and her glyphs in unison, folding time upon itself as the taste of decay flooded her tongue. Two glyphs appeared, golden and spinning, filled with clocks and hands and clicking gears.

Yang and Blake glowed, accelerating faster than Harriet could dream.

A Sabyr tackled Weiss to the ground. Gravel dug into soft, exposed skin. Snapping teeth bore down. She got an arm out, covering her face. Pushed with her back and her hips and _shoved_ the Sabyr off with both feet. It grabbed one boot as it went. Weiss let it, kicked off the other, and sprinted, bare foot and bruised, for the nearest storefront she’d seen.

Dust lined the window display. Pure, uncut crystals. _Perfect._

Roars and snarls as the Grimm circled. Weiss swallowed, braced her left foot behind her, formed a fist like Yang had taught her, and swung.

The smell of pine flooded her senses as her aura flared. Shattered glass rained down, biting at her skin but not breaking. Safe. Still safe. She snagged crystals. Several. Stuffed some into her bra, carried the rest.

“Here kitty-kitty,” said Weiss, spinning back around. She lobbed a fire Dust crystal toward the Sabyrs, spun her fingers, and shot a piercing glyph at it. It exploded. Fire and crystal pieces scattered. Grimm turned to ashes that bled into the wet streets.

_Perfect._ This could work.

“Yang, catch,” shouted Weiss. She threw a fire Dust crystal at Yang, who spun, caught it, spun back, and stuffed it into the Sabyr’s mouth. She punched it in the face. Leapt back and ducked as it exploded and its bones took out a few around it.

There were more coming.

Weiss threw more crystals, shot off more glyphs. She switched it up, using push and pull glyphs to draw them in or hold them at a distance. Standing still didn’t suit her, but she needed to be near the stash of Dust crystals, to be safe.

The sirens kept wailing. The Grimm kept coming. Her feet burned from the cold and the wet. Her glyphs flickered. Uncertainty and panic painting them in splotches and shaky lines, rather than the crisp shapes they needed to be.

She reached back for a Dust crystal and the spot was empty. Weiss chanced a look over her shoulder. Only a few Dust crystals left. One fire, one ice, one lightning. How was she supposed to take out all these Grimm with just those?

An image appeared in her mind. The battle at Haven, and the monstrous man with the Dust. Yang, with her fists punching together to trigger her semblance.

A thousand movies that Winter always said were unrealistic.

The mines. The fear in the Ace Ops when they thought the crystals were going to explode.

Weiss looked at her crystal supply, stuffed lightning and ice into her bra, and clenched the fire Dust crystal in both hands. The Sabyrs approached, heads low, shoulders bunched.

This was going to _suck._

Weiss took a deep breath, steeled herself, and slammed both hands together, crystal between them, as hard as she could. Her aura flared and so did the crystal. The crystal won. Aura flickered across her body, brightest at her hands, as the explosion went off. Fire coated her hands, glowing and ethereal.

It burned. Despite her aura, despite her steeling. It _burned_. Burned so deep she feared it’d burn forever.

Just like using Myrtenaster, right?

The Sabyrs and Weiss moved simultaneously. They roared. She tucked her head and sprinted, bare feet slapping the cold, wet pavement. Punched one, ducked and twisted, drove another fiery fist into the underbelly of above. Cast the fire out like she did with Myrtenaster. Extensions of her hands. Of her aura. Of her mind. Wrapped it around one, tucked and rolled. Slammed her shoulder into brick. Wet, hard, scraping against her shoulders.

The noise of fighting rose as she stumbled, holding her shoulder. The fire dimmed out. Rain splattered the streets and her hair, dripping down her face. Dribbles, now, but it would pick up. Soon, it’d pour.

The Sabyrs lunged for Blake and Yang, Weiss forgotten.

Too many. They’d get overwhelmed. They’d get hurt.

_No._

Ice Dust. Ignoring the burning in her hands, in her arms, in the ripped raw chunks of skin all the way up to her shoulders, Weiss grabbed the ice Dust crystal from her bra. Took a breath. Worse or better? A coin-flip.

Dug in with her aura and her heels. Clapped her hands together and shattered the crystal.

_Worse. So much worse._

Cold burns ripped across her arms and hands. Ice burst from the first set of burns, crystals forming on her skin. Cold. So cold. It dug in and she shuddered, everything icy and body going numb.

Fact: aura could do a lot, but sometimes you had to choose. Injury or functioning. Pain or consciousness.

Functioning, consciousness. Pain and injury would heal.

Don’t think. Act.

Blake, pinned down by Sabyrs, yelled as she gripped the open maw of one.

Sprinting forward in the rain – it froze as it fell around her, snow and sleet and hail all in one, ice forming on the wet pavement and sending her sliding with each step – Weiss leapt, called forth Dust and aura at once. Shaky, uncertain glyphs spun out on the ground as she brought her fists down. Ice splintered the pavement. Chunks flew as the ice ripped through the street and drove through the Sabyrs. Blake tucked and rolled, back to her feet. Kicked another Sabyr to Yang, who punched through it. Her whole body was glowing, rain turning to steam before it touched her skin. Blake’s flickered, shadows eating at her silhouette.

“There’s too many of them,” said Yang.

“Where’s back-up?” asked Blake, looking to the sky. “Shouldn’t the Knights be here by now?”

They should have been. Weiss put a hand to her headd, swaying. Cold. So cold. How was her aura holding up? She didn’t have her Scroll. Must have dropped it. Or had she destroyed it? Tossed it? She didn’t know. They’d find it when this was over.

Her body flashed from numb to pain, from ice to fire, from burn to frostbite, over and over. Fast. Faster. Until her head spun and she wanted to rip off her skin in ribbons just to make it stop.

The man, Hazel, made this look easy. Yang, in her fire, made this look easy.

Everyone else made this look _easy._

“We’re not done,” said Yang. “Look—” She stopped, staring. “ _Weiss_ , are you okay?”

An inhuman scream pierced the air before Weiss could lie. She spun, fists up, aura wavering, and swore.

A manticore. Why was there a _manticore?_

“We _cannot_ take that alone,” said Blake. “It’ll kill us.” She sounded faraway. Weiss’ vision was blurry around the edges.

_Don’t lose your aura. Don’t lose your aura. Don’t lose your aura._

She took a breath and called it away from her injuries, from her pain. It burned and froze and everything screamed until tears prickled her eyes and slid down her face, unseen in the rain. She needed her aura to fight. She needed her aura for her glyphs, assuming she could still make them. Injuries later.

Survival, now.

She had one Dust crystal left. No aura, no crystal. No crystal, no fighting. People would die.

People were probably already dead.

“We don’t have a choice,” said Yang. Fire danced across her body. Red eyes, burning hair, burning hands. “Anyone got a plan?” The manticore slammed its tail against a building and dragged it across the bricks. They rained down on the streets, pounding on cars and the cracked and soaking pavement. The rain pelted, faster now. Slicking streets and skin until Weiss was blinking back the rain, trying to clear her vision.

“I’ll distract it,” said Blake. “Weiss, can you pin it?”

“I can try,” said Weiss. “Yang?”

“Rip off its tail once its pinned. Then, we can fry its head,” said Yang. She punched her hands together. “Let’s go.”

Blake moved first.

The manticore was ice and teeth and claws. It prowled through the shadows, tail scraping bricks and massive paws cracking pavement.

The shadow-step flash of Blake’s semblance flickered across Weiss’ vision. Further, further, under the manticore and around its side. Blake whistled and the manticore spun. She ducked, rolled, came back up and threw a rock at its side. The manticore swung its tail around and Blake yelped, jumped up, and landed on the manticore’s back.

“Weiss!” she shouted, gripping tight to its fur.

Weiss jolted, spurred to action. She drew her hands in front of her and called upon her semblance. A holding glyph for the tail. She thrust it forward, forcing it wide and deep into the pavement. Blake leapt from the manticore’s back, brought her feet down _hard_ on the tail, and backflipped away.

The tail hit the ground, and the glyph, and Weiss grabbed with all her might.

It was _heavy._ And it pulled hard. Weiss fell to one knee and planted one hand on the ground. Icy and hard and gritty beneath her palm. She grimaced and held tighter. Her aura screamed around her, trying to hold, but it was a losing battle. The manticore leapt and tugged and roared. She shivered, rain splattering every bit of her skin.

“Yang!” yelled Weiss, voice cracking. She couldn’t hold this. “Yang!”

“Trying!” shouted Yang. Weiss looked up, squinting through the rain and the haze of pain that descended around her. Yang circled the manticore, running fast. Her fire blurred her silhouette, steam rising from her skin and hair. “Hold it steady.”

_Trying._

Weiss and the manticore battled without ever touching. Mind versus body. Aura versus darkness. And the manticore was winning.

The manticore thrashed even as its tail remained steady. But Weiss’ aura was failing. Did she still need it? What if more Grimm came? What was she supposed to do?

She faltered, everything flickering, aura red.

“Yang!” Blake. A curse, a shout. Weiss snapped her head up just in time to see Yang, in midair, hit the tail. Except the tail was in the air, not in the ground. Yang hit a building, aura flashing, dying. She fell to the ground.

“No,” breathed Weiss. Barely any aura. Semblance failing because it was so damn low.

“Yang!” Blake again. She ran for Yang’s fallen form and grabbed her, flashing them away to safety. The manticore turned its gaze to Weiss and roared, rearing back to fight.

The lightning Dust crystal crackled against Weiss’ breastbone.

One shot. Once she used it, her aura would break. If she missed, the manticore would kill her.

One shot.

Weiss grabbed the crystal. The manticore scratched at the ground. Milliseconds passed.

She clapped it between her hands and shattered the crystal just as the manticore lunged.

Pain. Light. The scream and break of aura. Fingers going numb and teeth burning in her jaw. Vision white, then back, then white again. Legs frozen to the pavement. Everything on fire and numb and gone.

She screamed. Matched the roar of the manticore. Raised both hands and grabbed at its massive fangs. Lightning poured through her body and Weiss screamed and screamed and screamed. The manticore screamed back and burst into ash and smoke.

There were no more Grimm.

All the lights in the street and half the windows had exploded. Smoke rose off Weiss’ skin.

“Did we win?” she asked, everything spinning.

And then the world went dark.

* * *

Ruby sat in the waiting area of the Atlas Academy infirmary, one leg bouncing and elbows on her knees. She had her chin in her hands and kept staring at the time, then the door into the infirmary, then back to the time. She’d stopped pacing a few minutes ago because Yang had threatened to tie her down.

“What happened out there?” asked Nora. A bandage covered half her forehead and her hair was still slicked back from blood she’d since washed out. Ren sat on one side of her, an arm around her shoulders. “I mean, we got in a fight, too, but like…”

“Two things,” said Winter, coming into the room. “First, the rocket lockers didn’t respond to any commands in Mantle, thus, anyone who went to Mantle unarmed _remained_ unarmed. Second, all drop ships had their short-range auto-pilot and pilot assistant programs disabled, leaving all pilots to manually operate their ships on their own. Both of these are targeting systems, two separate ones, but similar.” She folded her arms behind her back. “Salem’s operatives are in Atlas, and they are in our systems.”

“Where’s Ironwood?” asked Yang, snorting. “He too good for us?”

Winter levelled her with a hard look. “He’s organizing the military to sweep Mantle. Two separate sections of the wall collapsed tonight. It’s no coincidence that it was the same night the systems were down. He’s ensuring that all citizens of Mantle are safe, that there are adequate supplies and medics to go around, and that the military can close the holes before dawn.” She narrowed her eyes. “Is that satisfactory, or would you prefer he abandon his duties to an entire kingdom for the sake of sitting useless in a waiting room?”

Yang glared. Winter glared back. Ruby sighed and dropped her face into her hands.

This was _not_ her night.

“Is Weiss going to be okay?” asked Ruby. Winter had come from the staff door into the infirmary, which meant she’d most likely come from seeing Weiss. The only other person who’d been allowed to see Weiss was Jaune, and that was only because he’d insisted once his aura came back. He wanted to heal her. Wanted to help her recover faster, safer. And he’d been willing to bully his way in.

Strange, to see Jaune red-faced and aggressive. Stranger still, to see him not back down when people told him no.

“She’s recovering well,” said Winter, folding her arms across her chest and turning to face Ruby. “Her injuries, while extensive, are nothing the doctors are not used to, and with your friend’s semblance, she will be recovered by morning.” A pause. “Technically recovered, at least.”

Yang frowned. “What does that mean?”

Winter sighed, the first break in her icy demeanour. “It means she is likely to scar and have permanent nerve damage. It means she did something reckless, ill-advised, and is paying for her actions. It _means_ ,” her voice went hard, “that she may have permanently lost fine motor control in both of her hands. But until her aura returns and until her injuries lessen, we cannot be certain of _anything._ ” A snarl. Yang bristled. “What were you _thinking_ , fighting like that? Do you have any idea what could have happened?”

Yang was on her feet. Her aura was back, by the smell of ozone and smoke burning in Ruby’s nose.

“Any idea? We were _down_ there, where were you?” Yang threw an arm and gestured sharply to the room around them. “Up here, in Atlas, _watching_.” A hiss.

Winter narrowed her eyes. “Atlas is far too high for any landing strategy to work.” She took a step forward. “Seasoned hunters with _full auras_ have committed suicide by throwing themselves from its ledges.” Her hiss matched Yang’s. The breath punched out of Ruby’s lungs. Suicide? “We did everything we could to get down there, but we weren’t fast enough. I recognize that.” Closer. Face to face. Since when were they the same height?

Suicide?

Why weren’t there walls? Or barriers? There were, right? The hard-light Dust barrier kept people in, right? _Right?_

“Why didn’t you go inside?” Winter’s voice rose.

Yang’s hair ignited. “We didn’t have a choice.” She didn’t shout. If anything, her voice dropped lower, deeper. Like raking a bare hand over smoldering coals. “If we didn’t fight, people would have died. There was a Manticore in the _city_. Why the fuck did _that_ happen?”

Winter blinked. “A Manticore?” she echoed. “That far in?”

Yang nodded, still scowling.

A Manticore. No matter how many times she heard it, Ruby could barely believe it. She, Jaune, and Oscar had only dealt with a handful of younger Sabyrs and some Creeps. Even without weapons, it hadn’t been awful. Ruby’s speed let her slam into them without taking too much damage, and Jaune had fought with Oscar, who had had his cane. He never went anywhere without it.

Ruby glanced to one side, picking out Oscar, curled up in a corner. He clutched the cane between both hands in front of him, head bowed as if in prayer. Maybe he _was_ praying. Just because the Gods were gone didn’t mean there wasn’t something else listening.

Some _one_ else.

The thought made her shiver.

“It… as much as it was an anomaly,” said Winter, “it holds with what we’ve heard from the rest of Mantle.” She flipped her bangs away from her face. Ruby frowned. Yang’s scowl deepened.

Blake spoke, “What do you mean?”

“The two breaks in the wall are in… _odd_ locations,” said Winter. She pivoted on one heel and paced the length of the room. “High traffic areas with high concentration of people, tonight.”

“That seems normal to me,” said Blake. Ruby nodded in agreement. Yeah. Lots of people meant lots of discord. Wasn’t that how it worked?

Winter shook her head. “One of the two areas was near Robyn Hill’s campaign meeting. Penny reported that the people were in good spirits just before the Grimm pushed through the wall.” Penny… Where was she? Why had the Grimm come through where she was? Why had this happened _tonight?_ Too many questions. No answers.

“That’s… weird,” said Blake, slowly. “If they weren’t upset, then how’d the Grimm track them?”

“And what about the other place?” asked Nora. “Ren and I were near there. It was a homeless shelter.” She shivered. “I didn’t see any fighting.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper.

Ren added, “I didn’t feel anything. If it was extreme enough to draw the Grimm, I would have noticed.” Really? Ruby knew _some_ of how Ren’s semblance worked, but the intricacies escaped her. They calmed people by touch, they sensed people coming. Now, they sensed emotions as well? _Fascinating._ What else could they sense? What if they could sense nightmares, or injury, or—

Was Oscar okay? Was Penny? Was _Weiss_?

“Two anomalies in one night,” said Blake, quietly. “What does that mean? How did they get into the city?”

“They were led.” Everyone jolted at the soft roll of Oscar’s words. They all turned, Ruby spinning in her chair and coming up on her knees.

“Oscar?” His voice sounded wrong. He lifted his head, revealing an amber glow in his eyes. Ruby swallowed, voice dropping to a whisper. “ _Ozpin._ ”

A heavy hush fell over the group. The fire died across Yang, leaving her as smoldering charcoal. Doused.

Oscar, Ozpin, stared at the cane. At clasped hands held together. Prayer, much the same as the bowed head.

“If the Grimm cannot lead, then they were led,” said Oscar, in that same low, not quite right voice. Was that Ozpin? Ruby wasn’t sure. Not quite. The voice was similar. Everything was _similar_. But still _off._ Not quite one. Not quite other.

Was the merge real?

“So, someone else with those emotions? Or a group of them?” asked Nora. Her voice wobbled. Fear. The room stunk of it. Rotten flowers bloomed on Ruby’s tongue.

“Or a semblance,” said Ruby, the words tumbling past the decay.

Yang clenched her hands at her sides. She gritted her teeth and spun on her heels, turning away from Oscar-Ozpin. Ozcar? Ospin? Osc-pin? Nora would have made a joke out of it, if not for what it meant.

That they might be losing Oscar faster than they ever thought possible.

“What sort of semblance could draw Grimm?” snapped Yang at the floor. Smoke rose from her hair and billowed out of her nostrils. Her eyes shifted red and purple. Blink, red. Blink, purple. Blink, red. And on and on. “Wouldn’t Salem have recruited someone like that?”

“I think she did,” said Ruby. “I think whoever we’re dealing with has that sort of semblance.”

Yang snorted and threw her hands into the air. “Great, so we’ve got a hacker, a murderer, and a Grimm-magnet. You think she’s got anyone else here? Maybe an aura killer or a psychic?” The snark in her voice made Ruby wince. “Oh, or maybe Cinder’s here!” She rolled her eyes and growled. “Just great.”

“It’s not ideal,” murmured Ren.

Nora nudged Ren with one shoulder. “We do have a great counter, though. You. You’re great with that sort of stuff. And hey, I’m good at lightening the mood, right?” A hesitation. “Right?”

“Right,” agreed Blake. She sighed and hugged herself. “Yang’s right, this isn’t ideal, but we can manage. We have more knowledge now that we did before.” She looked to Oscar-pin and raised both eyebrows. “Is there anything else we should know?”

A flicker in the amber glow. Bright, then dim, then gone. Oscar blinked a few times, eyes normal. He raised one hand to the side of his head and grimaced.

“What—” He stopped. “Ozpin.” A whisper. “Why now?”

“Because they know something they aren’t telling,” said Yang.

Oscar shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think Ozpin is still… _hiding._ This was just too important. It pushed them out for a second.”

“That doesn’t mean they aren’t hiding anything,” replied Yang, turning back around to scowl at Oscar. He winced and shrunk back. Nora shoved herself to her feet and stepped between Yang and Oscar, folding her arms across her chest and staring up at Yang while she stared her down.

“Oscar isn’t Ozpin. He doesn’t deserve this,” said Nora. She lifted her chin. “Be nice. He’s helping us.”

Yang narrowed her eyes and folded her own arms. Ruby winced. That… wasn’t great. They didn’t need to be starting fights in a hospital. Well, at least they’d be close to doctors and medicine?

Someone cleared a throat behind Ruby and she turned, along with everyone else, to see a nurse standing beyond the swinging doors.

“Weiss Schnee?” asked the nurse.

Ruby hopped to her feet. “That’s us.”

The nurse passed a look over all of them. “Family and partners only,” she said. “I’ve been warned you’re an eight-person team. Who’s the leader and who’s her partner?”

Ruby raised her hand. “I’m both.”

The nurse gestured. “Come on then. We’ll let her out before dawn. That friend of yours is working wonders. But I don’t want you crowding up my ward.”

Ruby nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She cast a glance behind her and smiled at the others. “I’ll make sure to come back soon and tell you everything. Promise.” Blake nodded, giving her a smile, and Ruby hurried off after the nurse, who had already gone back through the swinging doors.

The smell of rubbing alcohol and bleach struck her across the face. Soft waiting room lights swapped for overbright fluorescents that blared down from above. As they broke out of the shorter hallway leading to the waiting room, the area expanded out to hold a nursing station and something like a dozen orderlies. Some were looking at charts on their Scrolls, some were talking in a corner, others were scattered about, running to and from rooms.

“This way,” said the nurse, gesturing with one hand. She had a tail sticking out from under her scrubs. Short, pointed. Bear? Meerkat? Ferret? It wasn’t her business.

Weiss was down a hall where one of the lights flickered and buzzed on occasion.

It was a small, square room with no windows and a UV light, off, mounted on one wall. The lights were blue, dimmed, and illuminated both people in the room. Jaune sat in a chair, holding Weiss’ hand while their auras glowed in unison. And Weiss…

Gods, _Weiss._

“What _happened_?” asked Ruby, voice cracking as she hurried forward. “Weiss, are you okay?” She stopped next to the bed, hands wobbling in the air. Unsure where to go, how to help.

Weiss rolled her eyes. Her nose was swollen from probably a stopped bleed. Her eyes were bloodshot but even as Ruby watched, the red was fading from the whites.

“I’m fine,” said Weiss, waving her free arm. She wore a white and blue hospital shirt and pants. The short sleeves shown the wreckage of her arms. Burns, freezes, and jagged lines that had to be from electric shock. All of them closed or closing, scarred or scarring. Nothing bleeding. Nothing burning. Nothing _new._ Jaune had already healed Weiss to the point that this fight could have been from weeks ago, maybe months. Not an hour. “Jaune’s been wonderful.”

“Thanks,” murmured Jaune. “You really did a number on yourself.”

Ruby sat down in the chair on the side of the bed that was empty. “Was the fight really all that bad?” asked Ruby. Manticore. Sabyrs. No weapons. No armour. Civilians everywhere. “What about your semblance?”

“Not great for that level of crowd control,” said Weiss. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “I tried, Ruby. I really did. But…” Weiss grimaced and opened her eyes, staring at the wall behind Jaune’s head. “I’ve neglected my semblance. My summons were there, but they couldn’t stand up to that many Grimm.” She shook her head. “I used to be able to call dozens of glyphs without _thinking_ , but I had to stop, and think, for all of them.” She clenched her hands into fists, Jaune’s fingers trapped in one. “It’s my fault.”

Ruby frowned. “No, it’s not.” She reached out and took Weiss’ free hand with both of her own, tugging at her fingers until they uncurled, one by one. “You were in a bad situation and you tried your best.”

“No.” Weiss’ voice was tight. “I tried to be _Yang_.”

Ruby furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

Weiss squeezed Ruby’s hand and then yanked hers out of Ruby’s, holding it close to her chest. “Look at me, Ruby. I knew I couldn’t take that much damage. I knew if I got hurt, I’d be done. And I knew that Dust would help, even if it hurt me.” Weiss squeezed her hand into a fist until the knuckles turned red, then white. “So, I took the damage, knowing it’d make me stronger. But I don’t bounce back the way Yang does.” She held out her arm, showing off the scars that she’d probably have her whole life. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Look at me, Ruby.” She swallowed. “Look at what I did to myself.”

Ruby took a deep breath, blinking back tears. Exhaustion clung to her like a second cape, and fear whispered in her ears, telling her that Weiss needed to be pulled off the field and put on the bench.

But that wasn’t an option, was it? Just training and missions and quiet therapy sessions whenever they had the time. This break wasn’t something they could stretch out, nor repeat. Not if they wanted to keep people safe.

Give and take. Or give and give and give. That was how it worked with hunters, wasn’t it?

“Did you want to hurt yourself?” asked Ruby, staring down at her hands, which she splayed, palm up, on the sheets.

“What—”

“Did you _want_ to hurt yourself?” echoed Ruby. Her fingers twitched.

“No,” said Weiss. “I didn’t—not to hurt myself. I knew it was my best choice and…”

“And?” prompted Ruby. Her voice wobbled.

Weiss sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Ruby. Or who I am, anymore. I guess I was trying something new.”

Ruby raised her head. “So, what’s the verdict?”

Weiss blinked. “What?”

Ruby swallowed. Swallowed back fear and anger and shouting and crying and begging. Swallowed back questions. The want to run.

The taste of rotten rose petals.

Leaders didn’t falter. Leaders didn’t fall. Leaders _led._

So, _lead._

She met Weiss’ gaze. “What did you think? Do you want to fight like that?” Don’t make your own opinions. Let Weiss answer. Then figure it out when it came to that.

“ _No_.” The horror in Weiss’ voice, in her face, shouldn’t have been such a relief. “No, I’m going to fix my semblance and go back to that. I’m not Winter. I know that. And I don’t need to rely on my summons.” She scowled. “I liked my time glyphs, my sticking glyphs. Those work well with the team.” She ground her jaw visibly. “I did well as a teammate, as someone who strove to be the best support I could be.” She levelled Ruby with a hard look and Ruby leaned back. “Maybe _that’s_ what I should go back to.”

Which meant Weiss wasn’t taking her eyes off Ruby. And this was a challenge. Ruby swallowed.

No, focus on the good. Focus on _Weiss_.

Weiss had ideas. Weiss wanted to be a good support member of the team. Weiss didn’t want to hurt herself. Weiss was _trying._ Just like everyone else.

“Okay,” said Ruby. She nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Weiss smiled. “Now, Jaune. I think _you_ should go find some of those nurses who wanted your help healing other soldiers.”

Jaune rolled his eyes. “I can still do more for you.”

Weiss narrowed her eyes. “I’m _fine._ I don’t hurt. Most of these are already scars, and my aura is doing well. Other people need you more.”

Jaune sighed and got to his feet. “Okay, but I’m going to come back. Count on it.” He waggled a finger at Weiss, who rolled her eyes.

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Weiss, drily, before turning her gaze to Ruby. Ruby shoved herself to her feet and followed Jaune.

“I’ll come with you,” said Ruby.

“Ruby Rose!” Weiss called after her, voice raising slightly as Ruby ducked out of the room behind Jaune. “We are going to talk about your problems.”

Ruby sighed. “Not tonight, we’re not,” she muttered. Jaune raised an eyebrow at her and Ruby looked away. “Just… let me be, okay?”

“Okay,” said Jaune. “I won’t force you.”

“Thanks,” said Ruby, and she followed him to the nursing station.

* * *

The infirmary released Weiss just after two in the morning, making it clear that she could stay the night if she wanted.

She did not, in fact, want to.

In Atlas sweats, with limp hair and scarred arms – something _else_ to get used to. Hair, now the scars. But she deserved it, didn’t she? At least she still had full range of motion. At least she could still _feel_ , even if temperature was mostly gone from the elbows down – she made her way back to her dorm.

Yet, when she arrived, she found herself stopping, one hand raised to knock – her Scroll already back with her team, Jaune having taken it at Weiss’ request. Yang had grabbed it, apparently, while Weiss was unconscious in the streets of Mantle. In Blake’s arms.

Did she really want to deal with the questions? The concern? The pity? The guilt?

Weiss closed her eyes, bowed her head, and splayed her hand against the cool metal of the door.

Did she have a choice?

A memory struck her. Yes, she did.

Weiss pushed off the door and headed down the halls, taking turns and stairs until she found her destination.

The team FNKI door was painted with neon paint in a street art/graffiti style, with bold, splattered shapes and sharp, edgy letters.

Weiss knocked.

Neon opened it, hair down and in a tie-dyed version of Weiss’ own sweats. All the lamps in the room were on, and Weiss could see Flynt holding a deck of cards, seated on a lower bunk.

“Weiss?” asked Neon, sounding far more awake than Weiss felt. “What are you---?” She stopped, staring at Weiss’ arms. “What _happened_? Are you—?”

“I’m fine,” said Weiss, sharply. Hoping her tone showed how much she did _not_ want to talk about it. “And I’m here to…” She hesitated, took a breath, and took a step forward. Splayed a hand on Neon’s chest, between her boobs and pressed tight to her breastbone. Her heart beat normally, a sharp contrast to the racing speeds of Weiss’ own.

“Weiss?” Curiosity, but cheeky. Just like her.

“Remember that rain check?” asked Weiss, voice dipping low and throaty. Neon nodded, a smirk spreading across her face. “I’m here to cash in.”

With that, she stepped forward, closed the distance, and planted a kiss on Neon’s lips. She tasted like bubblegum and sugar and her arms wound tight around Weiss. Together, they stumbled backward into the dorm room and the door slid shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D :D :D
> 
> I am still working on replies to comments, but know that I adore each and every one I get and often reread them repeatedly while working on the next chapters. So, if you have anything you wish to share, even just an extra kudos, I would love to see it.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	23. Reflections (Self, Other)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Previously on The Weight of Living..._
> 
> The gang takes a night off to deal with the stresses of the war.
> 
> Penny plays security at Robyn's rally, while thinking about her feelings for Ruby, as Ruby didn't notice her recent love confession. The rally ends in tragedy as the Grimm break through the wall and attack the civilians.
> 
> Weiss, Blake, and Yang go clubbing with Team FNKI, leading to Weiss revealing her jealousy about Yang and Blake to Neon. When the Grimm attack, WBY tries to fight back, but Weiss is gravely injured in the process.
> 
> James and Qrow go to the planetarium on a "not date" and probably know what happened but frankly it's unclear.
> 
> In the infirmary, RRAYNBOW talks while Weiss is in the infirmary with Jaune. Ozpin appears for a brief moment, causing problems. Ruby goes to see Weiss and pretends everything is fine. Even though it very much isn't.
> 
> And then Weiss fucked Neon and Flynt. Yup. That was a thing.
> 
> _...And now on this episode of The Weight of Living._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summary this time is me just being sassy. Enjoy that.
> 
> Have a chapter. This one is... I really like it? But honestly I'm a weird sleepy person and I don't know how much of my enjoying it is real and how much is me getting real sleep for the first time in... over a year and a half. We got a new bed! The world is strange! I don't know what to make of it anymore. Sleep is _wild_.
> 
> Anyway hope it's good. And emotional. And good.
> 
> <3

Weiss wasn’t in her bed when Ruby woke up. She couldn’t answer her Scroll, because they had it, and the infirmary people said she’d been released in the middle of the night.

“Where do you think she is?” asked Ruby, tugging at the sleeves of her stupid sweatshirt. Ruby wanted to run the whole building, but she hadn’t woken up early enough. She’d assumed, stupidly, that Weiss would come back if she was released in the night. She’d assumed, stupidly, that Weiss wouldn’t be released until the morning at the very least.

Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid._

“I don’t know,” said Yang, putting an arm around Ruby’s shoulders. They were just down the hall from the training room. Jaune, Ren, and Nora were already there, Oscar had gone off to class, and that left the three of them. It should have been four. “But you know she’ll show up as soon as she can. She’s not gonna miss training and she won’t leave us worrying for long.” Yang shrugged. “She’s Weiss.”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Ruby,” said Blake, stepping up on her other side.

Ruby sighed and sagged, bangs falling in her face as she hung her head. “What if she’s captured? Or what if she’s hurt? Or what if—?”

“Ruby,” said Yang. “If she doesn’t show up for training, we’ll go looking for her. Okay? She might just have wanted some time to herself. There’s plenty of empty dorms in this place. She probably just passed out in one.”

Blake nodded. “We do have access to all the empty rooms.”

Ruby blinked. “We do?”

“You really don’t pay attention to the logistics of our licenses, do you?” asked Blake. Ruby shrugged, face wrinkling, and eyed the training room door as it slid open for the three of them.

Inside, the rest of their team, bar Oscar and Weiss, as well as the Ace Ops, waited. Well, Nora, Jaune, and Ren waited. The Ace Ops were gathered around one of the training blocks, which had risen five or six blocks into the air. Clover sat atop the block, legs dangling off, and he waved down at Ruby when she looked. The other four clustered around the bottom. Elm stood nearest to the base while Vine and Harriet stood further out. Marrow stared up at Clover. He rubbed his hands together, lips pressed into a tight, pale line.

“What’s going on?” asked Ruby, walking up to Nora. “Have you seen Weiss?”

Ren and Jaune shook their heads.

“We’re gonna see Marrow bend the laws of physics to his will,” said Nora, rubbing her hands together with an eager grin. “This is gonna be _great_.”

“No, sorry,” said Jaune. “Isn’t she in the infirmary?”

Ruby shook her head. “No. The nurses said they released her in the middle of the night. She promised to come right back, but she never came home last night.” Ruby hugged herself. “I’m worried.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” said Nora. “She’s Weiss. What’s the worst she can do?”

“Go back to her house to stab her dad?” offered Yang. Everyone stared or glared at her. Yang shrugged. “What? She _could_. Nothing is technically stopping her.”

“Nothing but my own morals, thank you.”

Ruby perked. “Weiss!” She spun around, throwing her arms in the air. Weiss strode into the training room. Ruby rushed over to Weiss and pulled her into a hug. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried.”

“I’m fine,” said Weiss, patting her back. “I would have called, but _someone_ took my Scroll.”

Ruby pulled back and tugged it out of her pocket. “Here, I have it.”

“Where were you?” asked Ren. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” said Weiss, tucking her hair behind one ear. “I just didn’t feel like coming back to the dorm, last night. That’s all.”

“That makes sense,” said Nora, nodding.

Ruby frowned. “Where were you?” An empty dorm room? Had she gone to General Ironwood’s? He seemed the type to let a colleague or friend or kid in if they needed help. Or anyone, really.

“That’s not your sweater,” said Yang. Ruby blinked and took another step back from Weiss, squinting at her. Weiss wore the same zip-up hoodie that everyone got at AA. Grey shirt with the lower halves of the sleeves and the hood white. How could Yang tell?

Weiss frowned at Yang and Ruby stepped back, turning so she could look at both of them. Weiss folded her arms across her chest.

“Of course it is,” she said.

Yang shook her head and lifted one hand to gesture at Weiss. “No. _Your_ sweater is on your bed. I know, because we checked if you were there, this morning.” She put her hand on her hip. “So, whose is it?”

“Wait,” said Jaune. “Did you… spend the night with someone?”

Nora giggled. “ _Weiss_. You sly dog.”

Weiss’ cheeks burned. “I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.” She folded her arms tight across her chest. Ruby’s gaze went to Weiss’ hands. The knuckles were red and white in blotches. Thin scars, looking older than they had last Ruby saw her, scattered like veins across both sides of her hands.

“Wait,” said Yang, taking a step forward. “Neon spent, like, _all night_ hitting on you. Did you—did you _sleep with Neon_ after almost _dying_ yesterday?” Her voice rose in volume and pitch as she spoke and Ruby winced. Oh no. “Seriously? You had sex when you could have died?” Yang was shouting, now.

“Yang—” started Ruby, lifting one hand.

“No,” said Yang. “Seriously, Weiss, what the hell?”

Weiss lifted one hand and pinched the bridge of her nose, arms still mostly crossed. “Actually, it was Neon _and_ Flynt, if you want to be accurate in your judgemental shrieking.”

Yang glared. Weiss lifted her gaze and glared back.

“I don’t understand why this is a big deal,” said Weiss. Her face and ears were red and so were Yang’s, but Ruby was pretty sure it was for different reasons. “My body isn’t _your_ responsibility.”

“You almost died, yesterday,” said Yang, again.

“Well, maybe it made me think of a few things,” said Weiss, putting her hands on her hips. With the shift of her hoodie, Ruby spotted the start of several purple bruises, already fading, near her collarbone. Hickies. _Ah._ “Maybe I wanted to try something new.”

“You could have talked to us. Seems like a _huge_ thing to decide by yourself.” Yang folded her arms and frowned.

Weiss frowned. “Why is this such a big deal? It’s my body, my choice, and my mental health. If I think I can handle something, and I want something, then why shouldn’t I try it?” Weiss looked away. “I don’t expect _you_ to get it. You’ve probably spent your whole life knowing exactly who you are.”

Ruby winced. Ouch.

Yang opened her mouth and stood there, gaping like a fish, for a minute. Then, “You’re right, I have. I guess that’s why I’m having such a hard time understanding what you’re going through.”

“All I need to know,” said Blake, “and I recognize this might sound awful, but were you in your right mind, last night?”

Weiss nodded, looking to Blake. “Yes. And if I wasn’t, Flynt and Neon would have known. They were there, with us, at the club. They would have noticed if I was completely different.” Weiss shrugged. “And I was too tired to hide anything.”

Blake sighed, entire body relaxing. “Okay. Thank you.”

“What _happened_ last night, Weiss?” asked Yang. “You…” She gestured to Weiss’ covered arms. “Those are never going away.”

“I know,” said Weiss. “I screwed up, and now I’ll wear the marks of it forever.” She clenched her hands into her fists at her sides. “There were other options, last night. Better ways to use my semblance that didn’t involve mutilating myself. But I didn’t think of them. Because I was on edge, I was panicked, and I can’t _use_ my semblance if I’m not certain of my path. I think that’s why my mother can’t use hers, anymore.” She closed her eyes. Ruby fought the urge to step out and hug her. “I don’t know who I am, Yang, and I keep doing stupid things to try and figure it out. At least, with Flynt and Neon, if anything happened, I’d be safe with them.” Weiss stared down at her scarred palms. “And I thought, after treating my body like a weapon, that maybe I should treat it like it was part of me,” whispered Weiss.

Now, Ruby stepped out and hugged her. Weiss startled before wrapping her arms around Ruby and clinging to her.

“You did the best you could with the options you had,” said Ruby, into Weiss’ ear. “No one can blame you for that.”

“Thank you,” whispered Weiss into Ruby’s cape. “Thank you.”

“Hang on,” said Harriet, strolling across the training room toward them. “Is my hearing going, or did you say you lost your virginity in a _threesome_?” She was grinning. “Forgive me for breaking up the somber mood, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, _but._ ”

Weiss groaned into Ruby’s shoulder and pulled away as the words struck Ruby. She stared at Weiss, jaw dropped. Wait, _what_? Yeah, she’d heard Weiss when she’d said that she’d slept with Flynt and Neon. But it hadn’t occurred to her that she’d meant she’d _slept_ with _both_ of them, maybe at the same time.

“Um,” said Weiss, blushing bright red. “Yes?” She rubbed the back of her neck, ducking her head. “That is, in fact, how I lost it.”

Harriet laughed, grinning. “My _girl_.” She clapped her hands together and darted forward, throwing an arm around Weiss’ shoulders. “That is bad _ass_. Don’t let anyone shame you for that. That’s fucking _sweet_. I would have killed to have that kind of experience at your age.”

Weiss smiled, awkward, but there all the same. “Thank you?” She squinted up at Harriet. “I think?”

“Yeah,” said Harriet, nodding. “And don’t worry about the scars. All the best hunters have them. All of us have them.” She gestured to the Ace Ops. “And Ironwood has more scars that skin, I think, and look how well he’s doing. You’re good.” She pulled her arm from Weiss and lightly punched her in the shoulder. “Promise.”

“Thank you,” said Weiss, smiling. “I really appreciate that.”

“’Course.” Harriet grinned and winked before sliding back to her team. “Hey, if you guys are good, we can get started. We got a whole demonstration set up and everything.”

Ruby looked at her team. “Is everyone okay?”

Yang looked at Weiss and sighed. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry for all that. I…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I worry.”

“I know,” said Weiss. She crossed the space and rested a hand on Yang’s shoulder. “I appreciate your concern, really.” She looked to Blake. “And yours. I’m glad to count you as friends.”

“Group hug?” offered Nora, spreading her arms.

Weiss rolled her eyes. “Maybe later.”

“Aww,” said Nora. Ren patted her back. “C’mon, let’s go see what they’re all up to.” She darted for the Ace Ops.

Weiss hesitated near Ren and Jaune. “Are you okay with this?”

Jaune shrugged. “Yeah, it’s your body. I can respect trying new things and all that.”

Ren nodded. “You’ve always seemed to fight your attraction to women, Weiss. Whether consciously or not. I am glad to see you embracing that side of yourself.”

Weiss smiled. “Thank you. I’ve always been queer I guess I just… finally got tired of being worried about it.”

“Good,” said Ruby, skipping up next to her. “We’re better when we love ourselves.”

“Hey,” said Yang, catching Weiss’ shoulder. “What did you mean by ‘with Flynt and Neon’? Do you not trust us to catch you?” No anger. Just fear. Ruby hadn’t read Weiss’ words that way. But she wasn’t Yang. “What’s that about?”

“As my friends, my family, I trust you,” said Weiss. “As my everything. But last night wasn’t about family, or teamwork, or years of trust.” She looked up at Yang and gave her a flat look. “Last night was about _sex_ , Yang. That’s why I trusted them.” She put one hand on her hip. “Do you _want_ me to trust you in bed?” She raised both eyebrows.

Yang flushed. “Uh.”

“Yo, you guys coming or what?” called Harriet. “C’mon, before Marrow gets stage fright and pees on something.”

“That was one time!” shouted Marrow, sounding scandalized. “And I had drank _way_ too much coffee, and—”

“Oh, leave him alone, Hare,” called Clover from up high. He leaned forward on his elbows, balanced on the dangling legs. “He’s doing great.” Marrow puffed up. “You kids okay?”

“Fine!” called Ruby, nudging herself between Yang and Weiss. “Let’s see what this is about.”

“So… what are we doing?” asked Jaune, as the group approached the Ace-Ops. “And why is Clover so high up?” Ruby had to crane her neck to look at him, from this close up. He waved.

“Today we’re talking about semblances,” said Harriet, putting her hands on her hips.

Yang snorted. “We know about semblances. We use ours all the time.”

Weiss nodded. “I’ve been taught about my semblance a great deal. Though…” She trailed off, frowning.

“Yeah your sister is about as talkative as the general,” said Harriet, drily. “They have that in common.” She tipped her head. “Huh. Now, there’s a thought.”

“Don’t,” said Weiss, pinching the bridge of her nose. What were they talking about? “Both Winter and the General _hate_ that rumour. Unfortunately, we’re all my father’s, though I’m sure we all wish we weren’t.” Oooh. Infidelity. That made sense as to why she hated it so much. Well… was marital abuse a good reason to cheat? Well, no. There was no good reason to cheat.

But it felt a lot more forgivable. Greyer, at least. Especially because Mrs. Schnee couldn’t leave. Why was the world so complicated? Ruby’s stomach flipped.

“We’re not talking about semblances as a whole,” said Harriet. “Just the ways they evolve.”

Vine nodded and stepped forward. “Yes, semblances, especially in our line of work, have a tendency to evolve under great duress. Particularly after great internal revelations.” Vine looked to Ruby and winked. “She, by the way.”

Ruby sagged in relief. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

Vine chuckled.

Elm spoke next. “Yeah! When you take time to look inside yourself, your semblance grows, and when you get hammered into a pulp, it tends to evolve.” She punched one fist into the other open palm. “You can end up with some _wicked_ powers that way.”

That’d explain some of what had happened to Ruby’s semblance. But how would Uncle Qrow’s evolve? Would he get even unluckier? Would he get a way to control it? She’d have to ask him. Or how would Jaune’s change? He’d just gotten it in the last few months, so—

“A good example of that is my semblance,” said Harriet. Ruby blinked. “You might have noticed that when I use my semblance, I give off a fair amount of electricity.” They all nodded. “Right, that’s _real_ electricity. I could use it to short out or power electronics, cling to metal walls, or,” she looked to Nora, “power _your_ semblance, if I grabbed you at the right moment.”

Nora’s eyes lit up. “ _Awesome_.”

“And because semblances can evolve and create other effects, like your fire,” said Harriet, gesturing to Yang, “or your rose petals,” she gestured to Ruby, who nodded, rapid, “those effects don’t always relate back to your semblance, but instead what made them evolve.”

“We wanted to show you,” said Marrow, hopping up, “that semblance evolution looks like a lot of different things. Harriet’s allows her to do more maneuverability stuff, while _mine_ sorta… does the opposite.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And like how Ruby’s semblance lets her do things that aren’t normally possible, so does one part of mine.”

Nora grinned. “ _Now_ , I’m curious.”

Marrow cleared his throat. “Cool. Hopefully I don’t drop Clover this time.”

“I believe in you!” Clover called down to all of them. “You can do it!” Marrow’s cheeks darkened a shade, and he cleared his throat, tail wagging behind him.

“Right. Let’s do this.” Marrow strode over to a spot marked with a glowing ‘X’ on the floor and squared his shoulders, staring up at Clover. Elm moved to a spot a few feet in front of him and off to one side, almost directly below Clover. Vine took a spot a few feet further back. Harriet stood with the rest of them, nudging them all back up a few steps.

“So, what is Marrow going to do, exactly?” asked Blake.

Harriet grinned. Above them, Clover got to his feet and turned, putting his back to all of them. He lifted his arms, making them parallel to the floor.

“Defy gravity,” said Harriet.

“Now,” shouted Marrow.

Clover leaned back, tipped, and fell over the edge of the training blocks.

He fell through the air, fast and then faster. Picking up speed. Ruby’s eyes tracked him.

Halfway down, the world tilted. Marrow snapped his fingers and his voice reverberated across the training room.

_“Stay._ ” A dozen echoes of the word, all of them overlapping, bounced around.

Clover slowed and froze in mid-air. He hung there, arms outstretched, head tilted, body perfectly relaxed despite being frozen.

Ruby’s jaw dropped open. “Oh my god.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” breathed Yang. “That’s—how are you _doing_ that?”

Through gritted teeth, Marrow replied, “Carefully.” Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Time?”

Harriet checked her Scroll, open in one hand. “Twelve seconds. Keep going. You’re doing great.”

Marrow nodded. His gaze remained on Clover. His hand held aloft in the air. He barely moved. More than Clover. Less than the rest of them. Ruby tracked Clover’s trajectory and found Elm where he’d land when he unfroze. So _that’s_ why she was there.

“He really can defy gravity,” said Jaune. “So, this is what evolved semblances can do? If we can figure out how to strengthen ours, we’ll be able to do the impossible.”

“In theory,” said Vine. She smiled at them all. “There are many things that are possible with aura and semblances that most hunters are never taught. Aura bonds, for instance, as well as semblance borrowing.”

“I’m sorry, what?” asked Blake. She stared at Vine. “Aura bonds? Semblance borrowing? That stuff isn’t real. It’s just… fairy tales.”

Vine and Elm looked at each other.

Vine said, “Beg your pardon, Blake.” She cleared her throat. “But you happen to be _friends_ with a pair with an aura bond.” She gestured to Ren and Nora. “These two.”

Ren and Nora looked at each other.

“What?” breathed Nora. “Ren, did you…?”

“No.” Ren shook their head. “I didn’t—”

“What’s an aura bond?” asked Ruby.

“Time!” called Marrow, voice taunt.

“One minute, four seconds,” said Harriet. “Deep breath. Elm, refocus. We’re coming up on his record.”

Marrow swayed a little. His aura crackled across his skin.

“In position,” said Elm. “You can stop when you need to.”

“Hang on,” breathed Marrow, voice tight. “Just a few more.” Clover started to inch down in the air, one stuttering motion at a time. Like a marionette controlled by someone who wasn’t careful. “C’mon…”

“What’s the point of this?” asked Yang. “Like, why have him practice this?”

Harriet replied, “Because if Marrow can catch someone in midair to give us more time, we’ll be able to use this on search and rescue. Fallen buildings, ships, all that. It’s already come in handy a few times.”

Marrow cried out, “Catch!” He crumbled to his knees entire body sagging as he fell. Clover unfroze, falling. Vine reached out, glowing aura arms slowing him so Elm could catch him safely.

“Thanks,” said Clover as she set him down. Clover shook himself, blinking a few times. He stumbled as he stood, but he caught himself. “How long?”

“Minute thirty,” said Harriet. “Approached but not yet broken.”

“Damn,” hissed Marrow, still on his knees. “Gotta break that record.”

On the screen that marked everyone’s auras, Marrow’s inched down into the red. His icon flashed, indicating it wasn’t safe for him to keep fighting. Ruby frowned. Jaune stepped forward, moving around the Ace-Ops before he crouched next to Marrow and splayed a hand on his shoulder. Slowly, Marrow’s aura indicator started moving back toward green.

“You need to train,” said Marrow.

“I recover pretty fast,” said Jaune, drily.

Marrow sighed. “Thank you.” He got to his feet on wobbly legs.

“You did great, Marrow,” said Clover, clapping him on his free shoulder.

“Can we go back to the aura bond stuff?” said Nora, holding up her hand. “What do you _mean_ Ren and I have an aura bond? Aura bonds aren’t _real_.” She waved both hands in front of her.

But neither was magic, or maidens, or Gods, or silver eyed warriors, right? What was it the storybooks always said about aura bonds? They were a form of soul bond. The ultimate showcase of dedication and partnership that people could have. They were likened to soulmates. That was sweet.

Ren and Nora as soulmates? She could see it.

“Most of the things you read about aura bonds in books aren’t… quite accurate,” said Vine, clasping her hands together. Ruby pouted. Darn. “There is no such thing as soulmates, for starters, nor can those with an aura bond communicate telepathically.”

“So, what _do_ they do, then?” asked Jaune. “I always heard it was a show of love.” His cheeks burned. “I mean, y’know, in stories.” He glanced quickly at Ren and Nora, then away. Probably didn’t want to embarrass them. Still, the idea of sharing your soul with someone, even in a little way… that was a lot.

Would that even work, with Penny? Not that Ruby thought they _could._ Aura bonds were probably super rare. But Penny did have a soul. Were the rules different?

“Aura bonds are a powerful connection most often found between two people,” said Vine. She stroked her chin. “Although, there are cases of aura bonds between parties of three and even four. They are not romantic in nature, but they are most often found in romantic partners.” She cast a look to Ren and Nora. “Though, considering you’ve had yours as long as you’ve been here, I wouldn’t say yours was born of romantic inclination.” Ren and Nora glanced to each other, blushed, and looked away. Vine chuckled. “Or maybe it is.”

“They’re incredible,” said Clover, striding up to stand next to Vine. He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “They allow people to sense each other’s emotions and presence, track them across a decent distance, and share each other’s aura. Instead of two smaller reserves of aura, you get one big one.” He grinned. “I’d say it’s a sweet deal.”

Vine hummed. “Yes, however, because you share _one_ pool of aura, instead of two, if one of your auras breaks, so does the other, as you’re both out of aura. This can be… problematic.” Vine squinted at Nora. “Based on what I’ve seen, I’d say you likely absorb and utilize approximately eighty percent of your shared reserves.”

Nora’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh no. Ren, I’m so sorry.” She turned, staring with wide eyes at Ren.

Ren smiled. “It’s okay. You’re a more close-range fighter than I am. We can figure out how to even it back out.” They squeezed her shoulder with one hand. Nora sighed, arms dropping to her sides.

“Okay. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

Clover cleared his throat. “The _other_ thing you can do, if your bond is close enough, is you’ll start getting access to some aspects of each other’s semblances.”

Ruby stared. _What?_ That wasn’t a thing. Was that a thing? She hadn’t known that was a thing. Holy shit. What would that even look like?

“I wouldn’t recommend, y’know, trying it out before you _know_ you can do it,” said Clover. “Could end badly.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But, you will get them over time. You should play around with the safer parts of it, see what you can do that you thought only the other could.”

“This is _so cool_ ,” whispered Ruby, glancing from Clover and Vine to Ren and Nora. “What do you guys think?”

Nora looked up at Ren, who still had a hand on her shoulder. “I… don’t really understand, but if it means Ren and I are even closer than I thought, I’m okay with it.”

Ren smiled. “Me too,” they said.

“Okay, wait, wait,” said Yang. “So, are there any _other_ weird fairytale things that are real, y’know, as long as we’re talking about this shit?” She nudged through the others, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand and resting the other on her hip. “Like, what about sirens, or mermaids, or I dunno, aliens?” She raised an eyebrow.

Clover laughed. “Siren semblances are one of the five banned ones, so yes, they exist. Never seen one though. Mermaids and aliens, not so much.”

“As far as we know, anyway,” chimed Harriet, hopping up next to them. “But, you never know.”

“Harriet, you can’t fuck an alien,” said Clover, rolling his eyes.

Harriet stuck her tongue out at him. “Says you.”

“I have a question,” said Ruby, sticking up her hand. “You said they’re powerful connections, but you didn’t say how they formed. So… how _do_ they form?” She cocked her head to one side. “Because I’ve seen Ren and Nora’s auras break individually before, and not all that long ago.”

Clover and Vine looked at each other. Clover shrugged. Vine spoke.

“We don’t know,” she said.

“As far as we can tell, _no one_ knows,” said Clover. “They might be a product of the old people and their magic, now that I think about it.” He shrugged, again. “They just sorta… happen. Rarely, and a lot of the time they’re not strong enough for people to notice. But, sometimes, you get ones strong enough that people notice them.”

“It’s pretty rad,” said Harriet.

“So… we can learn how to use it?” asked Nora, scratching her head. “I really want to, because I want Ren to get their aura back. I… I don’t want them to get hurt because of me.”

“I can help you with that,” said Vine. “My studies in aura have given me a great deal of insight into aura bonds. Seeing as we were planning on working with auras, semblances, and team-building today, this will go well with that.” Vine glanced to Clover, who nodded, before leaving the group. Ren and Nora followed her across the training room.

Ruby sighed. Aura bonds and semblances and all sorts of things spun around in her head. She still hadn’t seen Penny. She _definitely_ hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night. And all the stuff with Weiss was making it difficult to stay focused on training.

At least everyone was communicating? That was a bonus. It felt like forever since everyone had talked about their problems, rather than just shoving them aside. …Though she was one to talk, considering she kept avoiding conversations.

Could anyone blame her, though? She didn’t want to talk about her doubts as a leader, as a huntress, as a hero. Her fears about the places she’d left behind and the people she hadn’t seen in so long. About Dad, who was probably worried sick, and Zwei, who could only help so much. About Sun and Neptune who had taken their teammates to Vacuo. About Team CFVY, who had saved them in the fall of Beacon.

About everyone who had lived and everyone who had died.

About the way she kept seeing Penny’s fallen body whenever she closed her eyes. And the arrow piercing Pyrrha’s heart. And the dying huntsman in that burnt out village. And everyone else along the way. And the horrific image of Salem that Emerald had thrown into all of their minds when she’d screamed in her grief.

It all loomed at the edge of Ruby’s mind, pressing inward at her thoughts and bearing down until she could barely breathe sometimes. Until she wanted to clap her hands over her ears and scream. Until she just… wanted to give up.

But the lamp was a heavy weight on her hip, one that she had taken back when Oscar had started school. It reminded her of the weight of her task, and the weight of her journey, and the weight of all those who were counting on her.

“—That’s about all we want to cover today. What do you think, Ruby?” Clover was saying. He turned to Ruby and smiled at her. Ruby startled, cheeks and ears flushing hot.

“Um, yeah, whatever you think is best,” said Ruby, rubbing the back of her neck. “You listened to us, so um, we should listen to you, too. Give you a chance to show us what you came up with, heh heh.”

Clover grinned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Right,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s get started. We wanted to have Vine show you all about aura projection, but since she’s busy, Elm can help with some of it. Jaune, Yang, you two would be my best bet for that, if that’s all right with you.”

“Sure,” said Yang, shrugging. “Dad can aura project, so it’d be cool to learn how he does it.”

“With my semblance, I think it’d be a great idea,” said Jaune.

Elm beamed. “Let’s head over there, then.” She gestured, threw an arm around each of their shoulders, and dragged them off.

“Blake, Weiss,” said Harriet, “I actually wanted to work with you two, today, if that’s okay with you. I know I’m speed, but I know a lot about redirection and maneuverability, something both of you work with a lot. That sound all right?” They both nodded. “Let’s head over, then.” They headed off to another corner. Ruby watched them go.

She realized, too late, that that left her alone with Marrow and Clover. The two emotional members of the Ace-Ops.

Oh no.

“Ruby,” said Clover. Ruby winced and turned back around to face Clover, shrinking in on herself. He smiled at her, open and warm. “Marrow and I want to talk to you. You’re a leader, and you’re young, and we think you could benefit from some more perspectives.”

“That,” said Marrow, resting an elbow on Clover’s shoulder, “and you’re clearly acting like you’re okay when you’re not, and I am _great_ at getting people to talk about their problems.”

Ruby muttered, “So why’s Clover here, then?” before she could stop herself.

Clover snorted. “For luck,” he said, drily. “C’mon, take a seat. Let’s talk this out.”

Ruby sighed. She didn’t have a choice, not if she wasn’t willing to run.

She followed the two over to a big block so they could all sit together.

Maybe she could pretend everything was fine.

She really didn’t want to cry in front of everyone.

Not when everything was just starting to get better.

* * *

The data from last night stared at Qrow on one holo screen while news feeds scrolled down another. Qrow leaned back against a desk in Pietro’s Atlas office, scowling at the feeds while he tried to take them all in. Two holes in the Mantle wall in two separate locations. Dozens dead, dozens more injured. Grimm that were still being flushed out and killed almost eight hours later.

Gods. The carnage was unbelievable.

Yet somehow all the kids had survived.

Small miracles.

Guilt clung to Qrow like wet down, whispering in his ears that he and James had been spending their time in a planetarium, last night. Watching stars and whispering together in a private showing of the new exhibit while the world below them fell apart. James had turned his Scroll to emergency only, so the attack had gone on for almost forty minutes before they’d been alerted.

Qrow’s gaze flicked to James, who alternated between looking at his Scroll and the holo screens. The tight set of his jaw, bunched curl of his shoulders, and clenched hands on his Scroll all betrayed the same thing.

Qrow fought a sigh.

“So, what do we think?” asked Qrow, looking from James to Pietro, who studied his own Scroll. “Definitely Salem’s cronies, but what the hell did they manage here? Two simultaneous attacks? Seems like a lot for the numbers we figured.” Three people or thereabouts. Yet, two holes and two massive attacks.

“Not to mention the computer issues,” said Pietro. “The navigation system controlling the older drop ships and the rocket lockers is robust, if outdated. To be able to get so deep into the system with so few indicators.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry, James. I’ve failed you. Penny and I both noticed an error in the code, yet we both brushed it off as a simple problem, rather than a sign of infiltration.”

“What’s done is done, Pietro,” said James. He lifted one hand from his Scroll and rubbed at his eyes. Neither one of them had slept much, last night. Qrow figured they might have gotten two hours between them. “We need to move forward and find out what happened to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

The election was coming. This kind of thing on election night could create mass panic and death. Destroy Mantle, really. Gods.

“What do we know?” asked James.

Qrow skimmed the feeds. “Two Grimm attacks less than ten minutes apart at opposite ends of Mantle. One near a popular nightclub and the other directly atop Hill’s rally.” The nightclub that Blake, Yang, and Weiss had been at last night. Qrow had seen the pictures of Weiss’ arms. Seen the medical report James had gotten. Permanent nerve damage, exact extent still unknown. It made Qrow’s stomach turn. No one that young should have been through so much.

“At the same time, the navigation system controlling emergency drop ships and the rocket lockers was down, severely limiting the ability for Mantle to receive assistance,” said Pietro.

“The question,” muttered James, “is how? How did someone manage all of that with so few numbers? How did they get into our systems? How—?” He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We keep getting more clues, but without context. I can’t fathom how these people are managing this.” He clenched his right hand across his Scroll. Qrow heard the distinctive crack of metal and plastic bending.

Time for another new Scroll.

“The old systems are less secure than the new,” said Pietro, tapping away at his computer. “And the Mantle systems are still in sore need of an upgrade. It _might_ be possible for a sufficiently advanced hacker to make some progress, but I don’t understand the speed and stealth with which they are managing this.”

“So, we have a whole lot of clues, but nothing that connects,” said Qrow, flipping his bangs. “Fantastic.”

“I noticed something,” said Penny, stepping into the room. The others startled, clearly not noticing her until then, but Qrow had seen her hovering in the doorway for the last few minutes, waiting for her turn. He winked. She smiled. “At the concert, I was looking over the camera feed and saw a discrepancy.”

“Oh?” asked James. “Please,” he gestured to one of the holo screens, “we’d love to hear it.”

Penny blinked twice and the camera feed appeared on the screen. “Last night, I counted a total of eight hundred and thirteen people at the rally, including myself and the Happy Huntresses, just before the time of the explosion. However, when I reviewed the camera feed, I found only eight hundred and twelve.” The footage rotated, pausing when it focused on the wall.

Penny crossed the room and gestured to a space in front of the wall. “Based on my readings, the eight hundred and thirteenth person was here. My memories indicate I counted an aura in this vicinity throughout the night, but there is no one on he feed.”

Qrow frowned and looked at James. “Could be a camouflage semblance.”

James nodded and stroked his beard. “May Marigold has such a semblance. It stands to reason that others would, as well.”

Penny shook her head. “No. My sensors allow me to see through May’s semblance. It does not affect me. I do not believe a masking or camouflage semblance of any sort could confuse or override my sensors.” She folded her arms, tapping her chin with one finger. “My readings are correct. I’ve triple checked them.”

Pietro hummed and tapped away at his computer. What he was doing, Qrow didn’t know.

“My only thought is that it could be some sort of aura projection,” said Pietro. “Your sensors might not pick up the difference between a projected aura and a full aura. If that were the case, you would count it as a person via their aura, when a person wasn’t there at all.”

Penny frowned. “I’m not sure I like that,” she mumbled.

“I’ll work on it,” said Pietro, gently. “It’s only fair that you’re able to discriminate the two. However, discrimination abilities aside, this is incredibly useful. Aura projection is an advanced technique only taught to high level hunters.” He looked to James and Qrow. “That greatly narrows the list of who could have left a projection behind.”

“We can narrow it further,” said Qrow, leaning back against one of the tables. At James’ raised eyebrows, Qrow continued. “There’s only a couple of reasons to use an aura projection outside of a combat situation. We can assume surveillance wasn’t one of them, because there were cameras all over the place and whoever is doing this has proven they can fuck around with Mantle.” He looked to Penny. “Sorry.”

“For what?” she asked, cocking her head.

Qrow’s mouth twitched. “Never mind.” He looked back to the frozen feed. “Based on the information we have, we can pretty safely assume that the projection was used to draw in the Grimm. That makes it semblance based. Can’t be a lot of people out there who can project their aura _and_ know how to draw in Grimm, right?”

James frowned deeply enough to draw vivid lines in his forehead.

“I know of a few,” said James, stroking his beard with a gloved hand. “Though, I’m not sure any of them would be helpful in this situation.”

Qrow cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Well,” said James, casting a look to him. “One of them is dead, one of them is in Vale, and the other is Taiyang. Do those seem like likely candidates?”

Someone in Vale? Glynda. Right. Glynda’s whole _thing_ with her semblance allowed her to do some wild shit with her aura. If Glynda and Taiyang were the only alive ones that they both knew, then it couldn’t be one of them.

Qrow blew out a breath that ruffled his bangs and scrubbed his hand back through his hair. “Looks like I’m gonna be creeping around Mantle again. Time to go shake down some more thugs.”

“Take someone with you,” said James.

Qrow frowned. “I don’t need anyone.”

“I know,” said James, voice soft, “but I worry about you.” The gentle concern in his eyes was so strong that Qrow couldn’t look at him any longer. He stared down at the floor, tracing the smooth lines that marked tile grout while he thought.

“You don’t mean one of the kids, do you?” asked Qrow.

“I could do it!” said Penny. “I’m very good at surveillance.”

Qrow chuckled and looked up at her, smiling. “I appreciate that, but you’re not exactly spy material. You’re…” He hesitated, trying to find the words. “You’re a star, kid. You shine too bright in the dark for people to ignore. Hard to do spy work with you. But, when I figure it out, I’ll call you. We could use your skills with everything going on.”

Penny nodded and saluted him. “As long as I can help protect Mantle, I am happy to do everything I can.” She beamed at him. Qrow found his smile growing.

“Good,” he said. Looking at James, he said, “Ace Op?”

“Clover,” confirmed James, and Qrow bit back a groan but didn’t quite bite back the slump of his shoulders and the huff of his breath. “Qrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s the best of them. He’ll make a good partner.” Qrow waved him off and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not to mention the rest of it,” he muttered.

“He’s good in a fight, understands how to remain under the radar, and has a great deal of knowledge about Mantle. While Marrow would be a better fit, he draws too much attention,” said James. Qrow glanced to James and there was that damned concerned look again. “I just don’t want you to take any unnecessary risks.”

Qrow snorted. “This whole _job_ is unnecessary risks.” He shook off the snark and straightened his shoulders. “Right, so I’m scoping out Mantle, the doc is checking out the problems with security and the feeds we ran into last night,” and that was a whole other mess. Fuck, the ships and rocket lockers going down was _terrifying_ , “and Penny’s gonna be helping with Grimm infestations and the wall.” Qrow cocked an eyebrow at James. “I get everything?”

James frowned at him. Qrow had a feeling they were talking about his subject change, later, but right now, he didn’t much care.

Later, he told himself. When he could shift into a bird and fuck off at a moment’s notice.

“We’ll need to send Team RRAYNBOW and the Ace Operatives into Mantle as well,” said James. He flicked his wrist on a table and the holo screens changed. “We need to focus on repairing the walls _and_ getting the materials out to Amity. I want it functional as soon as possible. If Salem’s forces are closing in, and they’re getting into our systems, I want it finished before anything can go wrong.” He looked to Pietro. “If Penny can help with the security issues, I was hoping you might find time to shuffle Amity onto its own network. Something closed that only a few of us have access to.”

Pietro nodded. “I’ll do my best. There’s a lot to do and with so much worry as to who we can trust…” He trailed off, cleared his throat, and said, “I’ll find the time.”

“Thank you, Pietro,” said James, voice soft. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for the kingdom. And I’m sure everyone else does as well.”

Penny put a hand on Pietro’s shoulder. “I’ll do everything I can to help, Dad. I don’t sleep, so I should be able to do a lot of the compile checks on my own.”

“You need to recharge sooner or later,” said Pietro, lifting a hand to rest it atop Penny’s. “Don’t push yourself too hard, sweetheart.”

Penny smiled at him. “For the kingdom, I will do everything I can. Just like everyone else.”

Pietro sighed. “I suppose that’s all right.”

Qrow made a note to keep an eye on Penny.

“Right,” said James, smiling at Penny. “Why don’t we figure out where we’re sending everyone else? I could use your eyes, Penny. You know Mantle better than most.”

Penny saluted him. “Sure thing Mr. Ironwood. Let’s get to work.”

* * *

Ruby sat as far from Clover and Marrow as she could while still being on the same risen block. Clover leaned against one side of it, elbow and arm propped on the side. Marrow sat, cross-legged, across from Ruby.

“So… what did you wanna talk about?” asked Ruby, when the silence stretched out too long for her to deal with. Clover and Marrow looked at each other. It was the same look that Uncle Qrow and General Ironwood often shared, and one that Yang and Blake were sharing more and more these days.

“We’re worried about you,” said Marrow, softly. Ruby braced herself. “All of you, really.” What? “You kids have been through a lot and, as their leader, we figured you were the best one to talk to about our thoughts.”

“Our thoughts?” echoed Ruby. She looked from Marrow, to Clover, and back again. Since when was Marrow part of the leadership of the Ace Operatives? He was the newest member. But then, wasn’t she the youngest? Wasn’t Oscar the newest _and_ the youngest? And weren’t they both in the same boat? “Okay…”

“Marrow’s been helping with a lot of the emotional load of leadership, lately,” said Clover, an easy smile on his face. “Something I’ve been learning is that it’s okay to ask for help and to lean on your team for support.” He looked to Marrow, smile turning wry.

Marrow shrugged, his tail wagging behind him so wide that the tip swept into Ruby’s view on either side of his hips. “Hey, what can I say? I’m good at teamwork.” He leaned his tail into the space between himself and Clover. “Blame the genetics. They make me crave a pack.” He said it like it was a joke, but the look on his face betrayed how much the words meant to him.

Clover grinned and nudged him with one elbow. “Well, you’ve got one.” He cleared his throat and looked to Ruby. “We wanted to check in with all of you.”

“Especially you,” said Marrow. “We’re not that oblivious, kid. We’ve noticed that you’re the only one who is going through things without processing them. You talk a big talk to your teammates, and you push them pretty hard to accept their circumstances and work with each other, but you shrug them off when they try the same with you.”

Ruby winced. “Did Weiss tell you about that?”

“Penny, actually,” said Clover, drily.

Ruby perked. “Is she okay?” Penny had responded to her texts, this morning, but she hadn’t been available for long. She was apparently very busy with putting Mantle back together, as well as looking into what had happened. And she wanted to explain what was happening in person, rather than over their Scrolls. “Is she safe? Is she working too hard?”

“Easy, easy,” said Marrow, softly, lifting his hands to placate her, or so Ruby assumed. “She’s okay. She’s just working with the General today. He, Dr. Polendina, and your uncle are making a game plan for all of us based on what happened last night.”

Ruby slumped. “Oh. Okay.” She put her head in her hands. “Okay…” She closed her eyes. Days without proper sleep were catching up to her. Nightmares and memories and fears threatened to swallow her whenever she slept. Penny, torn into pieces. Pyrrha, stabbed with an arrow. Disintegrated into ash and dust. Roman and the huntsman and so many others. Fallen friends and foes.

“Hey,” said Clover. Ruby startled when a hand rested on her knee. “It’s okay to need help. I get that you feel like you need to be strong all the time. Okay? I get it. I’m a leader, too. I always have been. But I’m learning, Ruby. And I don’t want you to suffer through everything I did to learn.” He hesitated. “And that’s a story I still owe all of you.”

Ruby swallowed. An exit from this topic? _Take it._ “When were you going to do that? I could call everyone together. We could do it right now.” She pushed herself back from Clover’s hand, tasting dying roses on her tongue. “I could—”

“Sit,” said Marrow. There was just enough of a command to his voice that Ruby froze, wondering if it was his semblance. But when her body only moved when she asked it to, she relaxed, lowering herself back to sitting. Marrow frowned. “I don’t use my semblance on people if I can avoid it.” His voice was tight.

“Sorry,” mumbled Ruby. She curled in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest.

“And don’t change the subject,” said Clover. “I’ll talk to everyone about it soon. I just want everyone here when I do it, and that includes Oscar and Qrow.” He shook his head. “But the _point_ I was trying to make is that leaders don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to lean on the people you care about. It’s okay to need to take breaks.” Clover rested his hand on her foot. “And it’s okay to ask for help, not just from your teammates, but from the people around you.”

Ruby stared at him over her knees. “Leaders don’t get to make mistakes. When we make mistakes, people die.”

Clover’s expression shuttered. He drew back his hand and sighed, shoulders slumping and head drooping. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. Ruby blinked. What? She’d thought he’d fight. She’d thought— “I’ve made that mistake, Ruby. I’ve gotten people I loved killed.” Ruby held her breath. _Oh._ Marrow reached out and patted Clover on the shoulder. “But you know what?” Clover lifted his gaze and met hers. “That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“But—” started Ruby.

“No.” Clover’s voice was firm as he cut her off. “I need you to listen to me.” He reached out and squeezed her foot again. “When I failed, people died, but part of my failure was that no one else on my team was capable of taking over for me _when_ I failed. And it is a _when_ , not an _if._ There is no team in all of Remnant, in all of history, that hasn’t needed someone to step in to fill the boots of their leader once in a while.” Clover squeezed. His gaze held hers and she couldn’t look away. Could barely breathe at the intensity in his voice. “If my teammates had known what I was doing. If my teammates had been able to step up when I failed. If—” He stopped. Cleared his throat. Blinked away tears that made his eyes shimmer.

“The point,” said Marrow, taking over as Clover bowed his head again, “is that no one is infallible. You can’t put everything on your own shoulders. If you do, you’re setting yourself up for failure. But if you spread it out, you can lighten that load and you can make sure that the failure or success of your team, of your mission, doesn’t hinge on _you_ and only you.”

Ruby swallowed. She stared at a spot far off in the training room, high on the wall. “But what’s the _point_ of a leader if they don’t take on the burden for everyone else?”

“A leader’s job isn’t to hurt so no one else has to,” said Clover, voice soft. “Our job is to understand how we work together better than everyone else, to analyze a situation from all angles, to be the face of our team, and to find the problems and the pains that our teammates and friends go through.” He swallowed, throat bobbing. “We create the plans, but we do so from our own knowledge base, from the situation at hand, and from the suggestions of those around us.”

“But if someone gets hurt—”

“Yes, it’ll be partially your fault,” said Clover. “I can’t change that thinking because _I_ think the same thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s _all_ your fault. Your job, when someone gets hurt, isn’t to take blame. It’s to get your teammate out safely and find a way for them to heal.”

“But what if someone dies?” Her voice lifted, not a shout, but loud. Behind her, silence. Eyes clung to Ruby and she couldn’t bear to turn and see how many people were staring. To see how many of her teammates were judging her.

“Then you cry,” said Clover. He stepped forward and rested his hands atop Ruby’s, looking at her over her knees. “And you mourn. And you find ways to live without them. And it’s awful, believe me, Ruby, I _know_ , firsthand, how awful it is to lose people you love.”

Ruby blinked, tears fell. Clover smiled at her, his eyes just as shiny with tears.

“No team is untouchable,” said Clover, voice wobbling. “But if we spread out the pain, if we spread out the burden, if we all talk to each other, if we all try and _try_ , then we can lessen that risk as much as possible.” He squeezed her hands. “But you can’t destroy yourself with possibilities and ‘what ifs.’” Clover blinked and a few tears of his own fell free. “We’re in a war, Ruby. Anything is possible. But if you let that paralyze you, if you let it destroy you, you can’t enjoy what life you have. Don’t shut yourself off to try and avoid pain. Don’t take on everything to try and let your friends be happy without you.” Clover reached up and brushed a few of her tears away. Ruby sniffled. “You’re just as much a part of their happiness as they are yours.”

“We love you, Ruby.” Ruby startled at Yang’s voice. Clover let go and Ruby turned, watching Yang approach with tears in her eyes. Yang took her face in both hands. The cool metal of her right hand grounded her as Yang wiped away a tear with her right thumb. “Please stop hurting yourself for our sake. If you won’t let us do it, then we won’t let you.”

“But I’m the leader,” croaked Ruby. This was what leaders did. Didn’t they understand that?

“And there’s seven of us to your one,” said Yang. “Which means we outvote you.”

The dam burst. Tears fell free from Ruby’s eyes as a sob tore itself from her throat. She crumbled into Yang’s arms, clinging to her as she sobbed. Yang held her tight, her own tears soaking Ruby’s hair.

And one by one the rest of her team came forward and joined the hug. And maybe it didn’t make the pain or the crying hurt less.

But at least it meant Ruby wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are adored! Thank you very much for reading this. I will reply to comments eventually. <3 I promise! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, bookmarks, and more are always appreciated. I love getting feedback on what you think and how I'm doing, whether it is as simple as "<3 extra kudos" or a big ass essay comment. You are free to leave as little or as much as you want, if you choose to comment. There is no pressure whatsoever.
> 
> Cheers everyone!


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